


i don't wanna live like this. (i don't wanna die.)

by SmoakScreen (midwestwind)



Series: run off in the night [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Minor Character Death, Road Trips, Romance, Running Away, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3490541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwestwind/pseuds/SmoakScreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke packed up in the middle of the night and took off in her dad’s SUV, she wasn’t really sure what she was trying to find but the hitchhikers - a friendly outspoken girl and her mildly unnerving brother - she picks up certainly weren’t it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't wanna live like this. (i don't wanna die.)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Honestly, this started out as a drabble to get the idea out of my head and five days and over 25,000 words later it ended up being a fully formed story and then I couldn't decide if it was good enough to post but I'm tired of it just sitting around so here, take it, I can't look at it anymore!
> 
>  
> 
> [A playlist to set the mood, if you like!](https://8tracks.com/ellasaidlumos/i-don-t-wanna-live-like-this-i-don-t-wanna-die)

**Boston, MA 5:23 AM**

 

Clarke Griffin is a meticulous planner. Clarke Griffin plots out every possible outcome before making any decisions. Clarke Griffin absolutely _does not_ pack up in the middle of the night and leave town on a whim.

 

Except when she doesn’t really feel like being Clarke Griffin anymore and her suitcase set from her eighteenth birthday taunts her from across the room.

 

So, the trip isn’t planned and she doesn’t double check her bank account and she may or may not have actually packed enough underwear but she goes. And that’s what really matters.

 

-

 

**Poughkeepsie, NY 8:42 AM**

 

She’s three hours out when the phone calls start. Her dad’s SUV is actually surprising efficient and she’s had to stop for gas far fewer times than she’d expected – which she figures is good because she’s been using the credit card connected to her parents account for now. She assumes her mom will freeze her out when she realizes what she’s doing.

 

The phone calls start and she steadfastly ignores them, silencing her phone, until the next time she has to stop for gas. The meter’s counting up from almost empty as she flips through her missed calls. She doesn’t bother with the voicemails or texts, she can imagine what they’ll say anyway, but picks the last missed call in her log (well, the second really because she is _not_ going to call her mom) and hits dial.

 

“ _Where the fuck are you?_ ”

 

“Good morning to you, too.” She tries for sarcastic and bitter but even to her own ears she just sounds _tired_. Raven sighs on the other end and _no_ , pity is not what Clarke needs right now. It’s exactly why she left.

 

“ _What’s going on Clarke? You can’t just take off and not tell anyone. Your mom is torn between being pissed and terrified, I think Wells is setting himself up for a panic attack, and Finn-_ “

 

“Fuck Finn,” Clarke growls, adjusting her sunglasses with more force than necessary, poking herself in the eye in the process. Raven is quiet for a minute and Clarke can practically hear the gears shifting in her head. She counts down from three, imagines the theme from Jeopardy playing somewhere. Raven could kick any of those know-it-alls on Jeopardy’s ass though so it doesn’t take her long to connect the dots, sigh. She’s sure it’s not supposed to be but it feels like judgment to Clarke.

 

“ _Again?_ ” Clarke doesn’t answer, sniffs once and pulls the pump from her car. “ _Is that what this is about?_ ”

 

That’s definitely judgment. At least they’ve moved past pity.

 

“No,” Clarke bites back at the same time shoving the pump back into its holder. The man inside the tiny, worn down store watches her from the window and she resists the urge to flip him off just because he’s there.

 

“ _Ahh,_ ” is all Raven says and it makes Clarke want to hang up on her. She should have called Monty. He might have talked in soft tones and tried to gently coax her home but at least he wouldn’t have been so damn perceptive. She actually moves the phone from her ear, ready to hit the end button, can’t convince herself to do it. She presses the phone back to her ear, wraps her free hand tightly around the steering wheel.

 

“Don’t ask me to come home or to tell you where I’m going,” she pleads, hating how weak and fragile she sounds. “Just tell my mom and Wells that I’m safe. I just... I need some _time_ , Raven.” Raven sighs again and while she doesn’t ask her anyway, she also doesn’t make any promises. She tells Clarke to check in when she can and Clarke doesn’t make any promises either.

 

They hang up and Clarke doubts the phone call made either one of them feel better.

 

-

 

**Scranton, PA 10:27 AM**

 

As it turns out, picking up in the middle of the night and driving nearly non-stop for five hours after weeks of very little sleep is not something that can be solved with copious amounts of caffeine. Clarke stops at a rest stop somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania because even she can’t compartmentalize away the need to pee and by the time she makes it back to the car, she can barely keep her eyes open. Somewhere in her mind she recognizes that her rash decision had definitely given her an adrenaline rush and it had worn off and left her tired and in no better a mood than she’d been in before she’d packed her bags.

 

She tries not to think about that fact as she hunkers down in the driver’s seat, leaning the seat back to take a nap after making sure the doors are locked.

 

When she wakes up the sun is setting, her black SUV is sweltering, and there are two people bickering loudly right in front of her car. She clumsily shoves her keys into the ignition, getting the air conditioning going before all but falling out of the car. She doesn’t really think as she stomps over to the couple, getting between them.

 

“What the hell?” She snaps at the guy, leveling him with a glare, before turning to the obviously younger girl. “Are you okay? Is he fucking with you?” The girl looks pissed and lethal and like she doesn’t really _need_ Clarke coming to her aid but levels the man with a glare before looking at Clarke.

 

“Don’t worry about it, just my _stupid_ brother being an idiot,” she explains and Clarke looks between them, the resemblance striking her, and she’s surprised she’d missed it in the first place. Even the angry set of their jaws is the same.

 

“That’s redundant,” her brother grumbles in a low voice and the girl rolls her eyes. Clarke looks between them warily, unsure what her next move should even be.

 

“Are you guys all right?” She asks eventually, once she realizes the siblings are content to just keep glaring at each other.

 

“ _No_ ,” the girl bites, “I got completely fucked by the gene pool.” Her brother looks mildly hurt by this statement. He holds up a set of keys jingling them at her.

 

“This is not my fault, O! I can’t fucking control every dick who knows how to hotwire a car!”

 

“Who would even want your piece of shit car?”

 

“I loved that car!” The girl – O, apparently – scoffs and rolls her eyes, turning away from them.

 

“Your car got stolen?” Clarke asks, looking to the man rather than talk to his sister’s back. The girl spins back suddenly, though, eyes wide.

 

“You were in the car next to it! Did you see anything?” Clarke frowns and shakes her head.

 

“No, sorry, I was sleeping.” O lets out a heavy sigh and flops down to sit on the curb in front of the SUV. Clarke looks between them, contemplates her next words carefully. Logically, she knows they could be con men or murderers or fugitives. Any number of horrible things her mother would glare at them carefully and remind Clarke of.

 

In the end, that’s probably exactly why she does it.

 

“Where are you guys going?”

 

“California,” O answers with her chin in her hand sounding pouty.

 

“I’m heading west but I don’t really have a destination,” Clarke says slowly, “you could come with me if you want?”

 

“Yes!” O says, jumping up with a grin, at the exact same time that her brother says “no.” Clarke looks between them with an eyebrow raised and the woman’s grin quickly turns to a glare again.

 

“Octavia, _no_ ,” he says easily, like it’s final. Octavia’s glare seems to intensify and Clarke thinks she disagrees.

 

“Well, _I’m_ going,” she snaps, “you can stay here and hope your precious car comes back.” Her brother frowns and crosses his arms. Clarke definitely does _not_ let her eyes linger in surprise at the tight muscles there.

 

“We don’t know her,” he counters, like Clarke isn’t standing literally two feet from him, “we don’t know anything about her.” Octavia rolls her eyes again but Clarke steps in before they can start squabbling again.

 

“I’m Clarke,” she tells him dryly, “Griffin. I’m heading west from Boston because I didn’t want to be there anymore and I have room in my car. Plus, I feel bad that your car got stolen right out from under my nose.” She looks between them again and Octavia is grinning again and her brother looks like he knows he’s about to lose.

 

“I’m Octavia,” Octavia tells her, “and this is Bellamy. And, yeah, you definitely owe us for the car so..,” she trails off and looks over at her brother. A muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches it but Octavia must read a defeat in his features because she lifts a fist into the air, pumping it once before heading towards Clarke’s car. She’s already made herself comfortable in the passenger seat when Clarke slides into the driver’s. She watches Bellamy, still in front of her car, heave a great sigh before lifting two duffel bags over his shoulder and heading towards them.

 

“Your bags weren’t in the car?” Clarke asks, suddenly anxious because that’s a _little_ lucky, isn’t it? Octavia is pulling a pair of red sunglasses from the pocket of her shorts and sliding them on her face.

 

“That’s not everything,” she says, sounding sad for the loss of her stuff, “it’s lucky Bell and I were taking showers so we at least had all our clothes. Clarke nods as the backseat door opens and Bellamy tosses the bags in before following them. There’s agitation in his movements and Clarke is beginning to doubt her whole _don’t think, just do_ lifestyle change.

 

She backs out of her parking space and merges back onto the highway anyway.

 

-

 

**Outside Scranton, PA 7:13 PM**

 

The calls have all but stopped all together but the texts are still rolling in at even intervals. She only reads who they’re from, doesn’t check the content, and doesn’t reply. If Octavia or Bellamy have noticed, they haven’t said anything. Octavia is fast asleep in the passenger seat, sunglasses still resting on her nose, and Clarke is learning that Bellamy is the silent type.

 

They’ve only been driving for about an hour and half but most of his additions to any attempt at conversation have been one word answers and half-hearted grunts. When Octavia drifted off so did the conversation and Clarke can’t say she really minds all that much. Not that she isn’t enjoying the company. She’s quickly realized she really likes Octavia and it’s nice to be around people who don’t know her or why she’s packed into her dad’s SUV with the barest of essentials, ignoring the texts from the people who love her.

 

She’s waiting in line at a toll and scrolling the radio stations when Bellamy suddenly shoves his closed fist at her from the backseat. She jolts and turns to stare at him.

 

“For the toll,” he explains, turning his fist around and opening it to reveal a few quarters. Clarke stares at them.

 

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

 

“Yes, I do,” he counters and, after a moment, she scoops the quarters out of his hand. She hasn’t checked her account in her parent’s names in a while but she doesn’t have high hopes.

 

She drops her hand from the radio dial as she pulls up to the toll and tosses the quarters in. A tired attendant barely raises her eyes to Clarke’s as she hands her a ticket through the window. Clarke merges back into the flow of the highway and definitely does not think about the roughness of Bellamy’s hand against her fingertips.

 

Well, okay, barely.

 

-

 

**St Louis, IL 2:16 AM**

 

Clarke hadn’t even realized she’d turned the volume on her phone back on until it starts ringing and vibrating in the cup holder about an hour later. At some point Bellamy had fallen asleep in the backseat and Octavia lets out a quiet snore every once in a while next to her. And she’s fully prepared to ignore it.

 

Except, Octavia wakes suddenly mumbling something that sounds like _for fuck’s sake_ and snatches the phone up, answering the call and leaving Clarke with no choice.

 

“What?” The brunette snaps, lifting the phone to her ear. Clarke glances over and sees the moment when Octavia wakes up enough to realize that it is _not_ her phone and the person on the other end is definitely not calling for her. She glances over at Clarke sheepishly and holds it out.

 

“It’s for you.” Clarke sighs and accepts her fate. She takes the phone carefully and pulls over to the side of the road, glancing down at the picture on the screen. She expects to see her mom’s name but the anxiety building in her chest loosens slightly at the picture of a boy caught mid-laugh lighting up the screen. She lifts the phone to her ear.

 

“Monty,” she breathes, all too aware of Octavia’s eyes on her. She pushes open her car door, considers taking the keys from the ignition but in the end decides against it and slides out of the car. Getting left on the side of the road would hardly be the worst thing she’d been through in the last few weeks.

 

“ _Clarke?_ ” Monty’s voice comes across the line, gentle and worried, and something in Clarke’s chest _aches_. “ _Who was that? Where are you? What’s going on?_ ” His words are rushed and curious but not demanding in the way Raven had been. She thinks of the contrast between the two and smiles sadly. When she’d decided to run she hadn’t thought she’d be missing her friends after mere _hours_.

 

“Have you talked to Raven?” She asks instead of answering his questions. He sighs on the other end, like he hadn’t really been expecting her to anyway.

 

“ _Yeah_ ,” he responds quietly and _God_ he sounds as tired as she feels and she hates herself a little bit for doing this to everyone but not as much as she’d hate herself if she’d stayed.

 

“I just couldn’t be there anymore, Monty.” It’s the best explanation she can give because her thought process last night had been fuzzy and had relied heavily on her inability to pull in enough air to fill her lungs and she just-

 

She felt like she was suffocating. But she can’t tell him that. She can’t tell him that he and Raven and all the people she loved were killing her slowly with their pitying looks and their quiet voices. She couldn’t tell him that it had felt for weeks like they were all taking turns sitting on her chest.

 

“ _I know_ ,” he says and she can hear in his voice that he _does_. He _knows_. And, fuck, she just hates herself.

 

She kicks a pebble towards the highway, watching it skip across the dirt onto the pavement until it disappears out of the line of her headlights. They sit on the phone in silence and she thinks of how it’s been like this with all her friends for months now. Sitting around not saying anything and trying not to let the silence crush them. She inhales sharply and turns back towards the car where Octavia is trying not to look like she’s watching her.

 

“I promise I’m okay, Monty.” Well, that’s a lie. “Or, I will be, at least. I just need some time.” The words are an echo of what she’d said earlier that morning to Raven but they aren’t a lie. Right now, Clarke needs a lot of things and time is definitely somewhere on the list. It’s a moment before Monty responds and she’s seen him wasted and stoned and studying for finals until three in the morning but she has never heard him sound so utterly defeated.

 

“ _Okay, Clarke, whatever you need._ ”

 

And she fucking hates herself.

 

When she slides back into the car it’s only by some miracle that she’s not openly weeping. Because she definitely _feels_ like a good, cathartic cry. She restarts the engine, lets the roar of it cover the shaky breath she pulls into her lungs. She can feel Octavia’s eyes on her and determinedly ignores her as she waits for a chance to pull back into traffic. She hadn’t expected the highways to be so busy this late at night but she thinks maybe the summer heat has driven people to be more active during the night.

 

When Octavia finally speaks it’s the last thing Clarke is expecting.

 

“Do you want me to drive for a while?” She asks quietly. Clarke looks over at her, surprise most likely evident on her face, and Octavia is smiling a little like she knows better than to ask whatever might be running through her mind. Clarke keeps forgetting in her misery that other people have troubles too.

 

“There’s a rest stop coming up,” she responds, shaking her head as she finally finds a space in traffic, “and I have to pee. We can switch then.” Octavia nods and sits back in her seat, content to end the conversation.

 

Clarke likes her even more.

 

-

 

**Joplin, MO 6:20 AM**

 

When she wakes up, the sun is coming up and Bellamy is in the driver’s seat next to her instead of Octavia. She shifts uncomfortably, beginning to rethink the logistics of sleeping in her car for the whole trip, and searches for her sunglasses. Octavia tosses them at her from the backseat.

 

“What happened?” Clarke asks, twisting around in the seat both to relieve some tension in her spine and be able to look at Octavia who shrugs and avoids her eyes.

 

“Bellamy woke up and insisted on taking over.” Bellamy snorts but doesn’t look away from the road. Clarke raises an eyebrow, looking between the siblings for elaboration. Octavia heaves a great sigh and finally meets her eye.

 

“ _Fine_. I _may_ have had a close call with a merging car. But it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Bellamy lets out another near-laugh and Octavia throws her hands up in the air and slumps back into the seat. Clarke adjusts herself in the front seat, facing forward now, unable to keep the amusement off her face.

 

“Yeah, probably best we _don’t_ crash our only mode of transportation.” She catches Bellamy’s lips twitch upward out of the corner of her eye but he doesn’t respond. Less than a mile later she spots a sign for a diner at the next exit, boasting _FREE WIFI_ in a large, bold print. She points the sign out.

 

“Get off here.”

 

“Why?” Bellamy asks, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Because I haven’t eaten in a day and a half and I need Wi-Fi,” she explains, frowning at him. It seemed an obvious request and he was looking at her like she’d grown two heads. She wonders if he’s forgetting that she’s basically doing him a favor here.

 

Of course, the more she comes to enjoy spending time in his and Octavia’s company, she begins to wonder who’s doing whom the favor.

 

“I’m down for anything made of batter and swimming in syrup,” Octavia supplies and Clarke can see Bellamy roll his eyes even from behind his sunglasses.

 

“So, pancakes or waffles.”

 

“Or crepes,” Clarke offers helpfully, smirking at Bellamy. His jaw ticks and her smirk grows. She glances back and Octavia’s sporting a shit-eating grin.

 

“Yeah, big brother, maybe I want _crepes_.”

 

Bellamy groans and merges into the exit lane.

 

-

 

Octavia orders French toast and she and Bellamy sit a table away from Clarke.

 

“I don’t want to be seen with _that_ person,” Bellamy had told her disapprovingly as she plugged her computer charger into the outlet under the table and booted up her MacBook. She didn’t point out that, upon glancing around the small diner, three out of the five tables there were _that person_.

 

She’d ordered eggs and waited until they came before opening up the webpage for her bank, scarfing down as many as she could before the weight settled in on her chest and she couldn’t force the food down her throat. Afterwards, she typed in the account name and password for her shared account with her mother and waited for the zeroes.

 

“Oh,” she murmured once the page loaded, “well, that was anti-climactic.” Bellamy and Octavia look over at the sound of her voice with raised eyebrows. She clicks on the detailed account information, just to be sure.

 

“What’s up?” Octavia finally asks and Clarke looks over, clicking out of the webpage and pulling out her phone. She texts Raven before she answers.

 

_I still have money._

 

“I haven’t been cut off yet,” she explains to Octavia once the message has sent. Bellamy’s brow furrows and his jaw tightens. Her phone goes off and she looks down at the screen.

 

_Bank said 24hrs_

 

“What are you? A trust fund brat?” Bellamy asks, barely concealed disgust coloring his tone. She ignores him and waves down their waitress. Yesterday-Clarke hadn’t been in a planning mood but today-Clarke was in less of a reckless headspace (not enough to turn tail and run home but enough). Clarke is shutting down her computer and shoving it in her bag when the waitress comes over.

 

“Hi, sorry, where’s the closest ATM?” She asks and the woman gives her directions to the gas station down the road. They pay their bills – Clarke’s separate from the siblings – and she doesn’t miss the change in atmosphere as they pile back into the car. Clarke is behind the wheel again and it only takes them about three minutes to find the gas station. She decides they can get multiple things done and asks Octavia to run in and get snacks and drinks for the road and Bellamy to fill the tank while she uses the ATM.

 

They head their separate ways but even that feels tense.

 

Clarke has to do three transactions to get out fifteen hundred dollars and she’s pretty sure the bank will alert her mom because of it but even the great Abby Griffin can’t undo this. When she gets back to the pump, Octavia is still inside and Bellamy is leaning against the passenger door as the meter counts up.

 

“Thanks,” she says quietly, watching the dollar sign on the screen. “I’ll pay you back.” He turns his face away from her.

 

“You don’t have to.” It isn’t gentle and friendly, though, like it’s no big deal because they’re friends or something. It’s guarded and bitter and she frowns at him.

 

“It’s my car,” she says and the words feel wrong on her tongue because _no, it’s not_ , “and it’s not like I’m not good for it.” He scoffs this time and turns on her.

 

“Yeah, _good for it_ , like a spoiled rich brat.” She gapes at him for a minute because, sure, they hadn’t been exactly friendly towards each other since she offered him and his sister a ride but he hadn’t been outright hostile either.

 

“You don’t know anything about me,” she snaps at him and he turns, suddenly more in her space as he turns his body fully towards her, and it surprises her. She nearly takes a step back but doesn’t want to give him that win.

 

“I know you, _Princess_ ,” he smirks, like he’s got her now, like somehow he’s won. “Poor little rich girl, right? Didn’t have it good enough so you’re running away to be _free_ or some bullshit?” He turns back away, jerking the pump out of the gas tank and not giving her a chance to respond. She takes a deep breath and very carefully does _not_ stomp over to the driver’s door. She climbs in slowly, keeps her calm, levels her breathing. When he slides into the backseat – like she can’t see his play by not sitting in the front – she doesn’t turn around just catches his eye in the mirror.

 

“You know, I kind of knew you were an asshole,” she tells him evenly, “I just didn’t know you were such a fucking _douchebag_.”

 

“Tell me I’m wrong, Princess.” Maybe it’s the nickname that makes her squeeze her eyes shut or maybe it the subconscious need _not_ to let him in but she does, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

 

“You don’t know _anything_ about me,” she hisses right before Octavia opens the passenger door.

 

Every time she chances a glance back at him in the mirror he’s already watching her, jaw tight, and the weight on her chest is for a whole new reason.

 

-

 

Clarke hadn’t even realized the radio was on. She doesn’t know who turned it on or how long it’s been on for but suddenly Octavia is jumping up in her seat and cranking the knob up. Taylor Swift fills the car and Bellamy is groaning from his spot sprawled out across her backseat and Clarke can’t contain the smirk that crosses her face.

 

Until Octavia is loudly singing along and grinning at her like she expects her to join in. Clarke shakes her head at her once and tightens her grip on the steering wheel. Octavia lets out a frustrated groan and the grin turns into a glare.

 

“Come _on_ ,” she pouts, “it’s not like you don’t know the lyrics. Everyone knows them, even Bellamy!”

 

“Shut up, O,” Bellamy barks over the music, his arm thrown over his eyes. Octavia rolls her eyes and goes back to enjoying herself with or without them. Clarke glances in the mirror back at Bellamy, too distracted by showing that he’s annoyed by the music to be glaring back at her, and smirks. She really might as well make the best of it.

 

The chorus cuts in and she joins Octavia in belting out the lyrics. The other girl turns and grins at her, singing directly at Clarke who laughs and points at her, switching between focusing on the road and singing along in Octavia’s direction. She thinks she hears something along the lines of _Jesus fucking Christ_ from the backseat but ignores it.

 

The song winds down and Octavia reaches forward to turn the radio back down to a normal level as the host starts talking. Clarke realizes it’s the first time she’s genuinely smiled in weeks.

 

“So,” Octavia begins slowly, “you may have noticed I’ve been very good about _not_ asking what that phone call last night was…” The smile slides off Clarke’s face and she clears her throat, adjusting her grip on the wheel.

 

“Uh-huh” is all she says in response.

 

“Okay, well, can you at least tell me who it was? I know it was a guy. Your boyfriend or brother or?” Clarke knows she doesn’t owe Octavia the story – the same way she hasn’t asked Octavia for hers – but she feels like she should tell her _something_. Besides, they’re basically friends now, right?

 

“No, neither. It was just a friend. Monty.” Octavia nods slowly and Clarke thinks that might be the end of her questions but doesn’t lower her guard anyway.

 

“Do you have one? A brother, I mean, or any siblings?”

 

“No,” Clarke responds, shaking her head, relaxing a little at the subject change. “I always kind of hoped my parents would have another kid, though.” She glances back in the mirror at Bellamy who is trying just a little too hard to look thoroughly uninterested in their conversation. She rolls her eyes.

 

“Yours has made me rethink that though,” she tells Octavia who barks out a laugh, looking back and grinning at her brother. He raises an unamused eyebrow and stays quiet.

 

“It’s not _so_ bad,” she tells Clarke, turning back and settling into her seat. Clarke thinks maybe she means it’s not bad at all.

 

-

 

The next time her phone rings there’s at least three minutes between when it goes to voicemail and when her phone alerts her to the message. Octavia looks up from her bag of gummy worms to raise an eyebrow at Clarke who doesn’t need to check to know that it was her mother lecturing her. A spiteful part of her takes great pleasure in the fact that she’ll never have to listen to it.

 

She flips the button to silence the phone and tosses it into the backseat, avoiding Bellamy and then ignoring his look. She’s once again struck by how similar even the siblings’ facial expressions are.

 

She spots the sign pointing for the exit into Oklahoma City and merges into the lane. It isn’t until she’s merging onto the exit and slowing down from the highway speed that the other two notice. Octavia leans over a bit to glance at the fuel level.

 

“Do we need gas?”

 

“No,” Clarke responds, not bothering to elaborate. Octavia stares at her for a second, expecting her to continue, then opens her mouth to respond. It’s Bellamy’s voice that breaks the silence, though.

 

“Then where the hell are we going, Princess?” Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel and she chances a glance at him in the mirror. He’s sitting up with his arms crossed and pining her with a hard stare. She looks at Octavia when she responds.

 

“Relax, I’m not kidnapping you or anything. I just think we should find a hotel and do some sightseeing.” Bellamy scoffs in the backseat but Octavia doesn’t seem opposed to the idea.

 

“We’re in _Oklahoma._ What sights are there to see?” The condescension in his voice grates on her nerves and she can’t control the bite in her tone as she snaps at him.

 

“That’s what the hotel is for,” she explains. “Hotels have brochures for tourist spots.”

 

“Tourists,” he grumbles, “is that what we are now?” She ignores him and presses on as she pulls off the highway in the direction of the motel she’d seen a sign for.

 

“Plus, a real bed for a night, a hot shower.” She can see Octavia warming up to the idea as she speaks and, if the rest stop back in Pennsylvania is any indication, she really only needs Octavia on her side to win this battle. She turns on her blinker to turn into the motel parking lot as Bellamy slumps back into his seat and mumbles a _whatever_.

 

-

 

**Oklahoma City, OK 10:03 AM**

 

She steps up to the counter to pay before Octavia or Bellamy can offer. They don’t and she tries not to think about how tense the air has been since she mentioned her money, it’s not like she’s dying for them to like her. She pays for a cheap room with two beds while they mill around the brochures. Octavia appears to be picking them at random while Bellamy is making a show of being entirely unaffected by everything she reads off.

 

Clarke crosses over to them and holds out a room key to Bellamy. He takes it hold of it by the bottom and she isn’t sure why she’s disappointed he’s seems to be avoiding her touch. Octavia turns and brandishes her stack of brochures at them. Clarke grins at her and nods in the direction of the door.

 

“Let’s find our room and then we’ll figure out where we’re going.”

 

They head out of the air conditioning and back into the heat, towards the SUV. They grab their bags and head towards the door. Bellamy and Octavia only have a duffle bag each and Clarke just grabs the suitcase with clean clothes. The change of temperature is surprising and Clarke realizes this is her first experience of a dry mid-eastern summer. She’s only been out in the heat a few minutes and she’s hoping the room has air conditioning.

 

“Let’s just hope it’s clean,” Bellamy complains, reaching the door first and pushing his key into the lock. Clarke rolls her eyes at him but has to admit she’s not sure what to expect from how cheap it had been. He pushes the door open and a blast of cool air hits them which is a comfort at least. The beds are generic, at the very least exactly what television shows make you expect, but they look clean and the air isn’t too dusty. Octavia tosses her bag easily on one of the beds but Bellamy hangs back.

 

“Two beds?” He asks and Clarke raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“I thought maybe you guys could share. If not, it’s my fault so I can take the floor.” She had made the assumption without asking but hadn’t really wanted to pay for two rooms. She had some money of her own but was planning on using her mom’s until it ran out and the gas tank was using more of it than she’d budgeted for. Of course, the problem was that she _hadn’t_ budgeted because it was exactly the kind of thing _Clark Griffin_ would do and – fuck when did she start thinking of herself today and herself a few weeks ago as separate people?

 

“Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you, Princess,” he smirks in response and she turns away in agitation, claiming her bed. If he was going to be a dick, she was _definitely_ taking the bed thank you very much. She hears the sound of his bag hitting the floor and unzips hers to see what she had even managed to pack. She finds a few changes of clothes and what should be enough underwear – _thank God_ – but no body wash. She groans a little to herself but is distracted when Octavia starts naming off different destinations from the brochures she’d picked up.

 

“ _Oh,_ here’s one for you, Bell, the Oklahoma History Center.” Bellamy grunts noncommittally though he does seem at least fractionally interested and Octavia turns to Clarke as she continues, “Bellamy loves this kind of crap.”

 

“It’s not crap, O, it’s history,” he argues and Octavia rolls her eyes, putting her hands up in defense. Bellamy crosses his arms and leans back against the door. Clarke has to keep herself from staring.

 

“Well, why don’t you guys do that without me?” Clarke suggests, turning back to her bag to pull out her things for a shower.

 

“Are you sure?” Octavia asks from behind her.

 

“Yeah, you guys can get away from me for a bit and I can shower and when you get back we’ll probably have time to do something else.” Octavia nods and looks to her brother who looks suddenly more interested in the idea and Clarke ignores the slight hurt that once she wasn’t invited he wanted to go. She turns back to her bag, focusing on folding her bra and underwear in a t-shirt before removing them from her bag.

 

“You guys can take the car,” she offers, digging the keys out of her pocket and turning to hold them out. Bellamy looks between her and the keys warily.

 

“You sure? We could just strand you out here,” he warns her and she sighs.

 

“Consider it a show of faith, then.” She jingles the keys at him. “Just don’t let Octavia drive.” Octavia huffs indignantly and pushes herself off the bed, storming out of the room. Bellamy watches her go and then turns back, smirking at Clarke who slumps.

 

“Crap,” she murmurs, “I was gonna ask to borrow her body wash.” Bellamy seems to debate something with himself for a second before leaning down to his bag still at his feet. He unzips it and tosses a blue bottle at her.

 

“Use mine.”

 

-

 

Clarke stays in the shower until the water runs cold, scrubbing herself clean and then just standing under the hot water for a while. She hadn’t realized how much of a toll sleeping in the car had taken on her muscles until she got out for a while. Her legs were welcoming the reprieve but her neck was killing her. She wraps herself in a towel and debates covering her arms and legs in lotion because – well – Bellamy’s soap smells really good and yeah there’s something primal about liking smelling like him. _Whatever_. She’s not gonna analyze it.

 

She decides to let her hair dry some while she scrolls through her texts, she can’t really ignore reality forever. She does put it off some though, when she finds Bellamy’s phone number scrawled on the hotel notepad with the words _just in case_ and decides to add that first. She texts him quickly.

 

_This is Clarke. In case you need anything._

 

He doesn’t respond but she wasn’t really expecting him to either. She starts with the texts from Raven because she’s sent the fewest and, well, Raven’s brutal honesty is preferable to Monty’s worry or her mom’s anger or Wells’ forced calm rationality.

 

_Is this what you call checking in?_

 

_You’re mom just told me $1500? You got balls_

 

Clarke couldn’t help but chuckle. The first text had been right after they’d left the diner and the second about an hour after she had gone to the ATM. She skips past her mom’s number, not ready to deal with that. She may never actually be able to deal with that. The next group of texts is from Monty, they go back to when she assumes her mom realized she was gone.

 

_clarke?? where are you? what's going on??_

 

_your mom is freaking. where are you????_

 

_can you please just answer the phone and tell me you’re okay_

 

They stop for a while and she realizes after she’d answered his call – inadvertently – he’d chilled out a bit. The only other text was one that morning.

 

_have you had enough time? we miss you._

 

She can’t help but smile. She knows Monty well enough to know that the first part is lighthearted but he’s probably taking her absence to heart, especially after all the unsaid things during their brief phone call. She pulls her hair over to one shoulder and taps out a reply.

 

_I miss you, too. I’ll let you know when I’m ready._

 

He replies almost immediately.

 

_ok_

 

Replying to Monty somehow makes her feel better, like she’s not completely cutting herself off but she’s also not letting herself be smothered anymore. She takes a deep breath as a test and her chest hurts a little less. She smiles and clicks onto Wells’ texts. There’s only a few.

 

_Are you okay? Your mom just called asking if you were here._

 

_Please call me when you can._

 

_Talked to Raven. Just call when you can._

 

Leave it to Wells to be the most understanding and least pushy. She almost wishes all of her friends had reacted worse. Cursed her out and told her she was being selfish, a bitch, unfair. It would have made being away from them and ignoring their texts so much easier. She bites her lip and debates replying to Wells. She glances down at her towel and decides she can do it after she gets dressed. She heads to the bathroom to change just in case Bellamy and Octavia come back.

 

She doesn’t hear keys in the lock until she’s blow drying the last bits of moisture out of her hair in front of the big mirror in the bedroom. She turns the blow dryer off as they come through the door and unplugs it, tossing it on the bed next to her bag. Bellamy is in the middle of a sentence when they come in and Octavia cuts him off with a groan, flopping herself face first onto the bed.

 

“ _God_ , that was terrible! Hours of nothing but” she lowers her voice in a halfhearted attempt to mimic her brother “’ _well, this general could have lowered his death toll if’_ and _‘yeah, but the battle of such and such was much more important to the founding of America’_ and _‘wow, Octavia, did you hear that? 1914!’_ Like that’s supposed to mean _anything_ to me!” Bellamy is sulking by the door and glaring at her on the bed but Clarke just moves to stand in front of her and smiles.

 

“So, you’re saying you had fun?” Octavia lifts her head and grins at Clarke.

 

“Yeah, maybe a little.” Bellamy rolls his eyes and pushes off of where he’d been leaning against the desk on the other side of the room. He drops down on the bed next to Octavia scooping up her pamphlets. He fans them out in his hands.

 

“Where to next?” He asks the room. Clarke can’t help but notice that despite his earlier pouting he seems to be in much better spirits. If all it takes is letting him nerd out about history for a little while, she might have to go out and buy a history text book or something for the car ride. She waves her hand, going back over to the end of her own bed to wrap up the cord of her hair dryer and put it back in her bag.

 

“Octavia can pick. I’m easy to please.” Bellamy snorts and she glares at him but he’s smirking instead of glaring back and even though it doesn’t look like a pleasant smirk it feels like progress of some sort. Octavia sits up, plucking the brochures out of Bellamy’s hands and flipping through them. She takes a while but eventually narrows it down to one.

 

“Okay! Let’s go here!” She announces excitedly and Bellamy sits up from where he’d flopped backwards on the bed to peer over her shoulder. Clarke stands from her seat at the desk and joins them. Octavia holds out the brochure like a prize.

 

“The Botanical Gardens?” Bellamy asks dryly, like she’s kidding. Octavia glares at him.

 

“I had to listen to you babble on about the history of _Oklahoma_ for hours,” she counters. “You can look at a few flowers with us.” Bellamy shrugs and lays back on the bed while Clarke takes the booklet from her and opens it, looking through the information. The gardens look beautiful and she can’t recognize most of the plants. She shrugs at Octavia and makes a mental note to grab her sketchbook from the car.

 

“Sounds good to me.” Octavia jumps up and pumps her fist in the air. She tugs on her brother’s arm until he sits up and glares at her.

 

“Come on, bro, we’re losing daylight!” Clarke can see him trying to fight the smile at his sister’s antics and losing the battle almost immediately, smiling at her affectionately. He digs the keys out of his pocket and tosses them at Clarke who catches them easily.

 

“You’re turn, Princess.”

 

“Shotgun!” Octavia calls, grabbing the messenger bag she’d been keeping in her duffle bag and heading for the door. Bellamy rolls her eyes at her and smirks at Clarke who grins back. It’s unsettlingly familiar and they both clear their throats and avoid each other’s eyes as Clarke grabs her own purse and they head out after Octavia.

 

It isn’t until they stop at a red light that Clarke realizes she still never text Wells back. She pulls her phone out to do so, tapping out a quick message.

 

_I’m ok. I’ll call when I can._

 

She’s just hit send when another text message comes through. She frowns at Bellamy’s name on her screen and opens it.

 

_eyes on the road Princess_

 

She glares at her phone and types a reply instead of taking his advice, just to spite him.

 

_Why are you so obsessed with me?_

 

She drops her phone and looks up just as the light changes but she doesn’t miss him smirk to himself in the backseat as he reads her response. Octavia is singing along to the radio and doesn’t notice when Clarke smiles as well.

 

-

 

They find parking relatively easily but she supposes most people won’t want to be out in this heat just to see a few sort of exotic flowers. Bellamy and Octavia watch her with similar expressions of surprise and confusion when she drops down the tailgate and climbs into the back of the SUV, digging through the two other bags she brought with her. Finally, her hand catches on the metal spirals of her sketchbook and she pulls it out, raising it above her head in victory before stuffing it in her medium sized tote purse. And then she digs back in for a pencil. By the time she climbs back out, stuffs the pencil in the back pocket of her jean shorts, and locks the car, Bellamy is leaning against the car looking put out and Octavia is bouncing on the balls of her feet in boredom.

 

“I see patience is a family trait you two excel at,” she comments dryly, pushing the tailgate up and pushing the top window down until the latch clicks. They give her matching looks of annoyance and she smirks, slipping her sunglasses onto her face.

 

“After you,” she says, waving her hand in the direction of the gardens. Octavia leads the way through the parking lot, dodging between cars, and Bellamy brings up the rear.

 

“What was the hold up, Princess?” He asks and, yeah, the nickname has steadily been losing its bite but she still doesn’t love it. She glances back at him over her shoulder.

 

“Had to find my sketchbook,” she tells him and he hums like she’s just solved some great mystery for him.

 

“A not-so-starving artist, huh?” She faces forward, focuses on the back of Octavia’s head, bobbing and weaving between cars instead of taking the direct route. She’s not sure why they’re letting her lead.

 

“Yeah,” she murmurs, “something like that.”

 

They decide to stick to the outside gardens rather than pay to get into the conservatory. They circle through the gardens and Octavia is maybe a little overtly amazed by everything but Bellamy watches her flit around affectionately and Clarke feels oddly calm in between the colored rows of floral with the weight of her sketchbook in her bag. She hesitates at a particularly beautiful row of flowers backed by the stylized pond and pulls out her sketchbook to put down some rough lines for her to come back to later. She doesn’t think to let Bellamy or Octavia know she’s stopped.

 

She snaps the sketchpad shut and runs after them just in time to catch Octavia turning in circles looking for her. She slows to a jog near them in time to hear the tail end of their conversation.

 

“..maybe she’s ditched us, O,” Bellamy is saying but Octavia doesn’t look convinced. Clarke pulls up short, walking the rest of the way to them. She frowns at Bellamy.

 

“I wouldn’t do that,” she tells him. He spins, surprised to find her there and returns her frown with one of his own.

 

“It’s not exactly the most unreasonable thing to think when you suddenly disappear with the car keys and access to all of our stuff,” he rationalizes and she rolls her eyes.

 

“Jesus Christ! Don’t you trust me yet?” Bellamy lets out an exasperated sigh like _she’s_ the problem and Octavia cuts in.

 

“Whoa, guys, chill. No one is ditching anyone. Let’s just keep moving.” Clarke nods at her, gripping her sketchbook to her chest and moving between them to walk ahead. She hears what she believes is the sound of Octavia’s fist hitting Bellamy’s arm.

 

“Way to go, Bellamy.” Clarke glances over when Octavia pulls up next to her, looking annoyed but still looking from side to side to see as much as she can of the gardens.

 

“How is this _my_ fault?” Bellamy calls from behind them but neither girl turns to look at him.

 

-

 

They only stay at the Botanical Gardens for about two hours but by the time they leave they’re all starving. They had discussed eating at the restaurant in the gardens but had decided against it, unsure of how high the prices might have been. Instead, they find a pizza place and take a large pie back to the motel room.

 

They spread the pizza on the desk with a bottle of soda and the huge stack of napkins Clarke had shoved in her purse when the cashier tried to hand her only two. Bellamy is sitting on the floor at the end of Octavia’s bed and Clarke is cross legged at the end of hers, remote in hand, trying to find something on the few channels the hotel gets that will appease everyone. Eventually, she stops on a Simpsons rerun and focuses on the pizza in her hand and the sketchbook in front of her.

 

She normally wouldn’t draw in front of other people but she’s afraid she’ll forget the details of the flowers and the pond behind them. She roughly shades them in with the tip of the pencil so she can clean it up later just so she doesn’t forget where the sun had been coming from.

 

Octavia chuckles at a joke on the show and Clarke glances up, though she’s sure she’s missed it but it’s almost a reflex. She catches Bellamy eyeing her and is suddenly self-conscious, glancing back down at the page in front of her. He doesn’t say anything, just looks back up at the screen and she closes the sketchbook, deciding she can fish her colored pencils out of the trunk and finish it tomorrow.

 

She stands up and pulls the comforter off her bed, grabbing one of the pillows and tossing them on the floor next to Bellamy. He looks up and raises an eyebrow at her.

 

“You can’t just sleep on the floor,” she explains and he looks down at the blankets with an odd expression. She’s climbing back onto her bed, pushing down the sheet and second blanket to crawl underneath. The air conditioning has left the room cool enough that being under the blankets is comfortable rather than stifling.

 

“Thanks, Princess,” he says softly from the floor after a minute and she glances at him in surprise. He doesn’t look at her, though, just keeps staring at the TV. She does catch Octavia rolling her eyes out of her peripheral though.

 

-  


She wakes up about an hour before sunrise feeling tense and restless. Her dreams had left her heart racing and she knows what the beginnings of a panic attack feel like so she digs a sweatshirt out of her bag and grabs her sketchbook and keys, all but running out of the hotel room. She leans against the SUV for a moment, taking in long, slow pulls of the dry air. When she feels the constriction in her chest relaxing, she unlocks the truck and climbs into the trunk again, finding her colored pencils in the same bag her sketchbook had been in. She closes and locks everything up again before climbing onto the hood of the car and focusing on finishing her drawing.

 

The sun’s almost up and her sketch is mostly done – though the colors might be a little off and the lighting looks more like mid-morning than late afternoon – but she likes it. She’s watching the sun finish its ascent, the faded blues and purples long gone to be replaced by bright fuchsias and oranges, when a motel door swings open. She whips her head around to see who their neighbors might be but spots Bellamy pulling the door closed quietly behind him instead.

 

He heads towards her immediately and she wonders if he saw her from the window before coming out.

 

“Afraid I’d left you?” She calls quietly across the parking lot, breaking harshly through the still morning air. He doesn’t respond but holds out a cup of coffee when he reaches her. She realizes he has one in each hand and grimaces, unwilling to actually apologize for the barb, murmuring a _thanks_ instead. He nods once, leaning against the front bumper and watching the sun as well. The light makes his freckles stand out sharply against his olive skin and she has the sudden urge to freeze time so she can get the exact amount of them and their exact placement right on her sketchpad.

 

Of course, if she could freeze time, she might not have needed this trip in the first place.

 

The weight settles back on her chest and she sips at the bitter coffee and watches Bellamy watch the sunrise, trying to ignore it. He looks over at one point and catches her staring but she refuses to look away and he doesn’t comment, his eyes flicking down to the sketchbook in her lap instead. He motions to it.

 

“Can I?” She looks down at the mostly finished drawing and suddenly the weird colors and incorrect lighting bother her more than they did. She never was great at sharing her work with other people. She holds it out for him anyway. He sets his coffee on the hood next to her and takes it gingerly with both hands. She can’t help the smile that crosses her face at the gesture, like it’s something precious he’s afraid to ruin. Clarke chews her lip as his eyes roam along the page, taking everything in.

 

“It’s really good, Clarke,” he says and she grins because, well, everyone likes praise but also-

 

“Ah, so you _do_ know my name!” He chuckles and hands the book back to her, picking his coffee back up.

 

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, _Princess_ ,” he warns and even the nickname can’t wipe the smile off her face – especially when he says it with just the right mixture of teasing and affection like that. Okay, so it might not be the _worst_ nickname she’s ever been given.

 

“Whatever you say, _Bell_.” His eyebrows go up and she pulls a face. “Yeah, it felt weird on both ends, didn’t it?” He barks out a sudden and genuine laugh and it’s the first one she’s heard from him and she grins again. She looks down at the book in her lap, flipping it closed and shaking her head.

 

“Don’t worry, though, I’ll think of _something_ to call you.” He nods solemnly in a sarcastic way like he doubts it and she rolls her eyes, sliding back into their roles.

 

“Asshole.”

 

“Well, that’s not very original,” he smirks.

 

“And ‘princess’ is?” She inquires, raising an eyebrow and propping her chin in her palm like she’s waiting for him to enlighten her. Unfortunately – something in her subconscious tries to correct this thought to _fortunately_ – all this does is put their faces quite close and his eyes dart down to her lips before he takes a step back, looking suddenly guarded and not at all teasing.

 

“Yeah, well, public school,” he shrugs with a little bite, looking back towards where the sun has completely broken free of the horizon by now, bathing them in the yellow light of early morning. She straightens up, surprised by the change and feeling at a loss. She doesn’t bother replying to the dig about her upbringings. It’s a minute before he looks back at her and this time she’s very consciously _not_ staring at him, looking pointedly down at her lap.

 

Part of her wants him to see that he’s upset her and part of her wants to force herself not to care either way.

 

“Octavia is still asleep,” he says suddenly, “I was gonna take a shower but you have my body wash.”

 

“Oh,” she nods, “right. I, um, I put it in the front pocket of your bag so we wouldn’t forget it.” He nods once, twice, glancing away again and clearing his throat. He looks back and runs a hand through his hair, mussing the curls up even more than sleep had.

 

“Do you need a hand?” He asks though he looks distinctly like he’s hoping she doesn’t. She shakes her head.

 

“No, I’m gonna stay out here for a bit.” He nods and turns to head back into the room. She watches him until he disappears behind the door and wonders vaguely if she still smells like him.

 

-

 

On the way back to the highway, she stops at a drug store to buy her own body wash. She spends at least three minutes with a generic women’s brand in one hand and the brand she recognizes as his in the other. It’s only by some great force of will that she only buys the women’s.

 

When she slides back into the car, it’s tense. She realizes she’s missed some sort of argument in her absence and resists looking back and forth between the siblings until one of them breaks. Instead, she starts the car and heads towards the highway entrance ramp without a word.

 

They go on like that for about fifteen minutes before Octavia finally turns towards her.

 

“So, can I ask you something?” Clarke glances at her, a little afraid of what will follow but nods nonetheless. “You’re running away, right?” Well, that wasn’t quite what Clarke had been expecting. She hadn’t thought about what she was doing in those terms exactly but in a nutshell…

 

“Yeah,” she says slowly, her brow furrowing as the words wash over her – _Clarke Griffin the runaway_. “I guess I am kind of.” Octavia nods and settles back in her seat making Clarke glance over again, confusion written across her features.

 

“That’s it?” She asks and Octavia shrugs.

 

“Well, it’s pretty obvious you don’t want to talk about whatever it is you’re running from.” Clarke can’t disagree with that but it’s not like any of them have been exactly _forthcoming_ about any of the deep shit since they met. She takes a deep breath and decides to bridge the gap, see what follows.

 

“Do you want to ask anything else?” She can see Octavia’s eyebrows raise in surprise behind her sunglasses and she nods vigorously.

 

“It’s your mom, right? Or, like, something to do with her?” She asks, the words tumbling out quickly like she thinks Clarke might change her mind.

 

“Yeah, I mean, sort of. She and I have never exactly seen eye-to-eye but ever since…” she hesitates, then amends; “ _lately_ , it’s been kind of like living with a stranger.” Octavia either doesn’t notice the slip – which Clarke doubts – or decides to ignore it, nodding again. It’s not the whole truth but it’s the simplest version of it and Clarke doesn’t feel bad for the omission.

 

“I can’t imagine that,” Octavia says quietly and Clarke shrugs like it’s not a big deal. Ignores the voice in her head telling her that denial isn’t healthy. Ignores that it sounds dangerously like Abby Griffin.

 

“I mean, I’ve actually lived with strangers but I always knew Bell was there if I needed him. I can’t imagine family feeling like strangers.” She must notice the confusion on Clarke’s face because she elaborates. “I was in the foster system for a while after my mom died, until Bellamy could legally get custody of me. Even when I was moving from home to home, I always had him.” Clarke takes this in, glances back at Bellamy in the review mirror but he’s steadily looking out the side window, his jaw clenched and sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” Clarke says quietly and Octavia puts her hands up, palms towards the roof like _what can ya do?_

 

“So, that’s why you’re relocating across the country, then? Because you and your mom don’t get along? Don’t you have any friends you could crash with?” Octavia asks, although there’s no judgment in her voice, just genuine curiosity. Not for the first time Clarke thinks of how well she would fit in with her friends. The thought of her friends makes her chest ache slightly.

 

“I’m not relocating,” she explains, “I’m just taking some time.” She wonders how many times she’ll use the word time in this context before she gives up and heads home anyway. Octavia pulls one knee to her chest, resting the heel of her foot on the edge of her seat.

 

“Oh, so you’re not moving to California?” She asks but it’s too forced to be casual and Clarke shrugs.

 

“Not as of the moment. Why?”

 

“No reason,” Octavia responds, tilting her head to rest on her own shoulder. “I’m just kind of gonna miss you.” The nonchalant way she says it makes Clarke grin and make a mental note to tease her for it later.

 

“ _Awwww_ ,” she croons, reaching over to shove the other girl lightly.

 

“Shuddup,” Octavia pouts, slouching down in her seat.

 

-

 

**Albuquerque, NM 4:32 PM**

 

“Okay, the good news, we’re only about five hours away,” Clarke announces to the car. “The bad news, if someone doesn’t take over for me soon we’re going to risk my legs going completely numb.” She’d been driving almost non-stop for nearly eight hours, stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks and they were coming up on the need for another one.

 

“Away from _what?_ What exactly _is_ our destination, Princess?” Bellamy asks groggily from the backseat. Clarke knew he had been drifting on and off in the back which is why she had waited so long to ask for someone else to drive. She’s sure Octavia’s near accident had more to do with tiredness than her inability to drive but she’s still nervous about putting her behind the wheel.

 

“You will see,” she tells him evasively. She doesn’t really know why she won’t tell them exactly where they’re headed. Maybe because it makes her sound like a cliché. Little rich girl on her first foray into the world on her own and where does she go?

 

“That sounds like you’re going to murder us,” he gripes and she smirks.

 

“Who drives for two days just to murder a couple of strangers?”

 

“Psychopaths” is his immediate reply.

 

“Pull off at the next exit,” Octavia says, actually helping out the conversation unlike _someone_ , “we can get gas, I can pee, Bellamy can get some fucking coffee and stop acting like a prick. Then I’ll drive for a little while.” Clarke’s shoulders tense and Octavia must see it because she sighs loudly.

 

“ _Seriously_?” She groans. “That asshole nearly merges into _me_ and I’m the one who isn’t allowed to drive?” Clarke rushes to calm her down.

 

“It’s fine, Octavia, you can drive, okay? My nerves are just a little fried.” Octavia seems to relax some and Clarke accepts that she’ll have to keep to her word. Bellamy has already drifted off again in the backseat.

 

-

 

Clarke gets the gas while Bellamy and Octavia head inside for the bathroom and coffee. Bellamy comes back first and Clarke has already finished at the pump and claimed the backseat for herself. She’s sitting halfway out with the door open and Bellamy comes to lean against the car next to her. She can feel the words bubbling to the surface, she’s not sure what makes her say them. Maybe she needs to say them more than she needs him to hear them. More than she’d realized when she’d been talking to Octavia earlier.

 

“My dad died,” she tells him, eyes trained on the movement behind the glass windows of the gas station. “Well, he was killed. It was kind of my mom’s fault.” She catches the movement of him turning his face towards her in her peripheral but still doesn’t look over. He nods once, short and jerky, and looks back towards the gas station. After a minute, he holds out his coffee in her direction. She stares at it before taking it. She takes a long swig, flinching at the bitter taste, and it burns down her throat.

 

Octavia comes bounding out with a box of donuts and a two more coffees a couple minutes later and Clarke hands the coffee back to Bellamy and slides into the back seat. He pushes the door closed after her and climbs into the passenger seat.

 

“So, Clarke,” Octavia begins as she puts the SUV into drive and pulls out of the parking lot.

 

“So, Octavia,” Clarke counters, smirking at her in the mirror.

 

“Where _are_ we going?” Octavia continues, ignoring her. Clarke sighs and debates with herself on telling them. For most of the trip she’d just given them vague directions that kept them heading west in the direction she needed them to go.

 

“Come on, Princess,” Bellamy adds from where he’s slouched in the front seat nursing his coffee, “you’re gonna have to tell us eventually.”

 

“The Grand Canyon,” she says in a rush and then feels like she needs to explain, “My dad and I always had this plan to go camping there until we got tired of it after I graduated.” The car goes silent for a minute and she figures Octavia is putting the pieces of her past together, trying to make what little she knows fit into a big picture.

 

Clarke hopes she’ll figure it out and tell her what the big picture is.

 

It’s Bellamy who breaks the silence first.

 

“Arizona it is, then,” he says and Octavia lets out a _whoop_ as she merges onto the highway. Clarke lets out a laugh and feels the tension in the air melt away. Her phone buzzes from the cup holder in the front.

 

“Hey, what does that say?” She asks, sitting up a little. She kind of figures her mom will have given up by now so it’s probably one of her friends. Octavia reaches for it but Bellamy bats her hand away, picking it up himself.

 

“Watch the road,” he hisses at her before angling his body towards the backseat. “Raven says you’d better not be fucking dead, asshole.” He’s smirking and she’s sure those are the exact words Raven used. She sits forward and plucks the phone out of his hand.

 

_Don’t worry. The two hitchhikers I picked up are super nice._

 

Raven responds almost immediately.

 

_you’re fucking hilarious_

 

Clarke smirks and doesn’t bother to reply again, tossing her phone into the seat on the other side of the car, reaching around Bellamy to grab a donut out of the box in his lap.

 

-

 

Clarke finds out after only a few hours why Octavia isn’t allowed to drive. It isn’t that she’s bad – they don’t have any more close calls at least – but she gets bored of it quickly. She’s groaning about needing someone to take over for her within two hours and Clarke is ready to give in but Bellamy reminds her how long Clarke had been driving for and tells her gently to suck it up. Or, as gently as Bellamy can.

 

Finally, after making her and by proxy both of them suffer for another hour, Bellamy tells her he’ll take over at the next rest stop. Clarke doesn’t think she imagines the way Octavia speeds the car up to get there faster. The sun went down about a half hour ago and the traffic has begun to even out. Clarke offers the backseat to Octavia when they get to the rest stop and the other girl doesn’t even hesitate as she accepts.

 

Within a half an hour, Octavia has drifted off, sprawled across the entire backseat. Clarke twists in her seat and smirks at the sight, looking to Bellamy who shakes his head with that fond smile she thinks he might reserve just for his sister. It warms something inside Clarke and she settles back in her seat. She’s got her sketchbook in her lap, refining the lines of the flower as Bellamy drives. He nudges her at one point and she looks up just in time to catch the _Welcome to Arizona_ sign as they pass it.

 

“Not far now,” he murmurs and there’s a lightness in her chest she hasn’t felt in weeks. A sudden closeness to her dad that makes her elated but also makes her chest ache, makes her aware of every beat of her heart. Bellamy must see something in her face because he reaches over and covers her hand with his. She looks down at it in surprise and hesitates before flipping her hand over to squeeze his.

 

He doesn’t take his hand back until he needs it to flip the blinker and merge but Clarke immediately misses the contact, fidgeting with her sketchbook. She eventually shoves it in her bag between her feet and curls up against the door.

 

“Let me know when you want me to take over,” she tells Bellamy and he nods.

 

-

 

**Grand Canyon Village, AZ 11:43 PM**

 

Clarke must have dozed off at some point because she wakes up to Bellamy gently nudging her. The low roar of the car engine is absent but the air conditioning is still humming and Octavia’s snoring in the backseat. Bellamy points to her window and she follows his finger, inhaling sharply when she realizes where they are. She clumsily unbuckles her seatbelt and nearly falls out of the SUV when she pushes her door open, stumbling out onto the rocky terrain.

 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders if it’s okay for them to be parked here. She hears Bellamy’s door close shut quietly behind her but can’t tear her eyes away from the landscape in front of her. It’s dark and they’re parked far enough away from the edge that she can’t even see across to the other side.

 

But it’s fucking beautiful.

 

And – Jesus – she starts _crying_! Right there in the Arizona desert, in front of this man she’s only known for about two and a half days and – _fuck_ has it really only been a few days? Strong arms come around her and it jolts her because she isn’t expecting it but she turns into him, pressing her cheek against his chest and not looking away from the canyon.

 

He doesn’t say anything, which she’s grateful for. He doesn’t tell that she’s okay or will be or all of the things she’s heard over the last few weeks because she’s _not_ and maybe she will be eventually but she doesn’t care about that right now. When she stops crying and her breathing returns to normal, he pulls away from her slightly.

 

“What do you want to do, Clarke?” He asks quietly and she finally turns her face to look at him.

 

“Sleep,” she admits, glancing towards the truck. He nods and they head back. He turns the car off while she drops down the tailgate and shoves the bags to either side, arranging his and Octavia’s duffel bags like pillows. He joins her, pulling the tailgate and top window closed behind him.

 

It doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as it probably should when she curls into his side and drifts back to sleep.

 

-

 

She wakes before him again and sits up, taking in her surroundings and remembering the night before. She glances out the tinted window at the canyon before leaning over the back seat to check on Octavia. She’s beginning to realize the girl could sleep through a hurricane. She lets herself out of the back quietly as to not wake either of them, digs her sketchbook out of the front and climbs up on the hood again. This time the sun has been up long enough that she has to lay a jacket down to keep from burning herself on the heated metal.

 

She sketches out the landscape before her in a rush, not bothering to line it out before using the colors. She wants to get the colors exactly right before the sun changes too much. It’s a rough sketch and she knows she’ll want to clean it up later but she wants to finish before she has company. She sketches out the rough silhouette of a person standing at the rim of the canyon. She doesn’t add any real details, the sun is hitting him in a way that he’s just a black shape but _she_ knows so it’s okay.

 

She doesn’t know how long she spends sitting by herself like that but she’s adding some shading when Bellamy finds her again. He leans against the front grill next to her legs, looking out into the canyon.

 

“Hey,” she says quietly, smiling when he turns to look at her.

 

“Morning,” he responds at the same volume. “How are you?” He raises an eyebrow at her but it’s lacking any of its usual arrogance. She nods slowly, remembering the feeling of breaking down in his arms.

 

“Better.”

 

“Good.” She smiles at him and he smirks back before noticing the drawing in her lap. He leans forward to get a better look and she lets him. When he looks back up, he’s closer than she’d realized and he’s smiling.

 

“You’re talented, Princess,” he murmurs.

 

“High praise coming from you,” she teases. She notices his eyes dart downwards, the smile slip off his lips and she thinks he going to kiss her. And she thinks she’s going to let him. But he jerks away suddenly, straightening up, and – _no –_ she’s not going to let him kill this moment again.

 

“Were you going to kiss me?” She asks and it’s supposed to sound like a challenge but her voice comes out breathier than she means for it to. He’s smirking again and she knows he noticed it too.

 

“Did you want me to?” He responds but his voice is rougher than usual so she can’t be the only one affected. She shrugs like it doesn’t matter to her either way. It does.

 

“Only one way to find out.” His eyes drop to her lips again and she thinks he’s going to rise to her baiting and she finds herself really curious about what he tastes like, if his kisses are gentle like he is in quiet moments or rough like he pretends to be. He’s so close his breath hits her lips and-

 

Tires cutting to a stop in the dirt breaks them apart, looking around to find the source of the intrusion. A mostly non-descript compact car kicks up a cloud of dust that settles as it turns off and the driver’s door opens. A dark skinned woman gets out, her sleek ponytail swinging around behind her and Clarke sighs.

 

“Clarke Griffin, you fucker!” The woman calls across the dirt and Clarke thinks maybe it will echo forever throughout the canyon, school children on field trips will giggle and come up with stories on what exactly made Clarke Griffin a _fucker._ Bellamy looks around at her, brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“Who is that?” Clarke lets out a labored sigh.

 

“Reality.” She puts her sketchbook to the side as Raven marches towards them and Bellamy helps her down from the hood. Clarke isn’t sure if it’s the nearly twelve hours of sleep or the commotion outside that wakes Octavia, but she tumbles out of the backseat, her hair knotted around her, looking around wildly.

 

“Oh, we’re here,” she says happily, apparently oblivious to the tension in the air, “cool!” Raven reaches them and Clarke accepts her fate. She somehow always knew she’d die at the hands of Raven Reyes. The woman reaches forward and punches Clarke’s arm hard enough to make her stumble a step back and hit the front bumper of the SUV.

 

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” Clarke ignores the question because, honestly, Raven knows the answer anyway.

 

“What are you doing here?” She asks tiredly and Raven rolls her eyes.

 

“Getting you, obviously.” They glare at each other for a few minutes before Octavia bounds up and breaks the stare.

 

“What’s going on?” She asks, looking between them. Clarke suddenly remembers that Bellamy is standing right there and neither of them have any idea who this woman yelling at her is.

 

“Sorry, this is my friend Raven,” Clarke explains, waving her hand vaguely at Raven before turning back to her. “Raven, this is Bellamy and Octavia.” The recognition dawns on Bellamy and Octavia’s faces at the same time that the horror takes over Raven’s.

 

“Christ, Clarke, I thought you were _joking_ about the hitchhikers!” Clarke shrugs, can’t help but smirk at the fact that she’s surprised Raven.

 

“I was, sort of,” she says, jutting her thumb in Bellamy’s direction, “this one not very nice.” He frowns at her before stepping in.

 

“We’re _not_ hitchhikers. Our car got stolen and Clarke offered us a ride.”

 

“ _Oh_ , sure, _that_ makes it okay!” Raven snaps sarcastically and Clarke can see Bellamy’s hackles raising so she steps in.

 

“Can you guys give us a minute?” She asks and Octavia nods though Bellamy seems hesitant. “You guys can get changed in the back and then we can go get breakfast, okay?” He sighs and nods, following Octavia to the other side of the truck. Once they’re out of eyesight, Clarke turns back to Raven.

 

“Seriously, what are you doing here?”

 

“ _Seriously_ ,” Raven bits back, “I came to get you.”

 

“How did you even get here?”

 

“Your mom bought me a plane ticket.” Clarke crosses her arms and stares Raven down.

 

“So, my mom sent you to fetch me?”

 

“You’re mom _asked_ me to come get you. I agreed because I was worried. You weren’t checking in and I had no idea what mental state you were in.” Her voice has softened and Clarke drops her arms, looking down at the dirt covered toes of her sneakers.

 

“I’m getting better,” she says quietly, “I needed this Raven.”

 

“I know,” Raven nods, understanding lacing her tone and making Clarke suck in a deep breath. She reaches forward suddenly tugging the other girl in for a hug.

 

“I missed you,” she breathes and Raven chuckles nodding against her shoulder. She catches Octavia creeping around the car in fresh clothes and laughs, pulling away from Raven.

 

“The loud voices stopped,” Octavia explains, pulling into full view, “is it safe?” Clarke chuckles and nods.

 

“Yeah, tell your brother he can stop hiding.” Octavia grins devilishly and turns, calling out towards the back of the truck.

 

“Bell, you can stop hiding from the big scary emotions now!” Bellamy stalks around back of the truck, glaring at his sister.

 

“I am _not_ hiding from emotions, O,” he snaps and Octavia rolls her eyes and laughs. Clarke catches Bellamy’s eye and smirks at him. He stops sulking long enough to return it.

 

-

 

They go into the village for breakfast. Raven had apparently been there since the day before, spending her days staking out the canyon because she knew it was where Clarke would be headed. Clarke had tried not to be bitter that even when she was being unpredictable she was predictable.

 

“Face it, Clarke, you’re just not that hard to read,” Raven says in between bites of scrambled eggs. Clarke sinks down in her chair a little, pouting, but perks up when she catches Bellamy smiling at her from the other end of the table. Octavia is putting away more pancakes than her small figure should be capable of next to her and doesn’t bother to swallow before speaking, earning a withering look from her brother.

 

“How were you sure you hadn’t missed her already?” She asks Raven. “If she had driven straight through she should have beaten you here.”

 

“I have my ways,” Raven shrugs mysteriously and Clarke rolls her eyes, the pieces clicking together in her mind.

 

“Monty tracked my phone’s GPS for you, didn’t he?”

 

“After your phone call,” Raven smirks and Clarke huffs indignantly.

 

“That little traitor.”

 

“He was just worried,” Raven defends. “Come on, Clarke, it’s Monty. Don’t waste your energy being mad at him because we both know all he’ll have to do is smile that adorable, dimply smile and all is forgiven.” Clarke sighs again but knows Raven’s right. It’s pretty much impossible to stay mad at Monty.

 

“You have a friend that can trace cell phones?” Bellamy asks, looking back and forth between them. Clarke grins and shrugs, sitting up straighter.

 

“Don’t worry, Monty knows he can only use his powers for good,” Clarke assures him but Bellamy still looks wary of the idea. Monty would make the _worst_ supervillain, though.

 

They finished breakfast slowly taking the time to catch Raven up on their trip and the tidbits of Bellamy and Octavia that they liked to share. Octavia took to Raven surprisingly quickly considering Raven could usually be an acquired taste but, then, Clarke considered who she’d grown up with and it made sense. Bellamy was his usual quiet self for the most part but she couldn’t stop herself from glancing over at him every once in a while, or the rush she got when he was looking at her as well.

 

Once they were finished eating, Raven explained that the little village was actually pretty cool, that the town itself had been declared a historical landmark district, and she hadn’t really had a chance to explore it in the daylight. Octavia had immediately jumped on it, insisting they explore some before they leave and no one seemed in any particular hurry to leave anyway. They headed up and down streets, darting in and out of shops. They stopped and got some homemade ice cream at one of the shops to combat the heat, the SUV still parked in the parking lot of the diner they’d eaten at. Bellamy had made a disparaging remark about having _such good luck_ with leaving cars in parking lots but Clarke had lifted the key fob in her hand and stared him down as she hit the lock button, the car alarm beeping as it clicked on.

 

When they start heading back towards the car, Clarke insists they head back to the canyon so she can see it in the daylight. No one really fights her on it but she hadn’t totally been expecting them to anyway. As they walk, Octavia drags Bellamy by the arm as he lists off different important historical events from the pamphlet he’d picked up in one of the stores. Clarke and Raven hang back and Clarke links her arm through Raven’s who pretends to be annoyed by the gesture.

 

“So,” Raven begins gently, quietly like she’s afraid to spook her, “did you find what you needed to find out here?” Clarke is silent for a minute, contemplating the question.

 

“I don’t know,” she admits, “probably not. I just thought I needed to be alone for a while.”

 

Raven nods, “And now?”

 

Clarke looks ahead of them, watching as Bellamy recites facts and Octavia tries her best to be annoyed by him.

 

“Now, I’m not so sure.” Raven nods again but doesn’t say anything else. Bellamy’s low voice travels back to them at a murmur, punctuated every so often by a groan from Octavia.

 

-

 

When they get back to the canyon, Clarke wants to walk around the rim but Raven and Octavia insist they’ve had enough of the heat for one day. Raven leaves to return her rental car with Octavia following in the SUV to give her a lift back. Bellamy stays behind to walk with Clarke.

 

They put about a foot between them and the rim as they walk around it. Neither of them mentions that morning or really talks at all. But it’s definitely less uncomfortable than Clarke expected it to be. They make it a ways away from the tire tracks indicating where the SUV had been before Clarke stops, stepping right up to the edge. She looks down and is surprised to see how smooth the rock is. She’s seen pictures, logically knew what to expect, and yet she expected it be more rough, ledges jutting out at odd intervals. There are some but they don’t stick out as far as she’d expect.

 

She feels Bellamy’s hand wrap around her forearm gently.

 

“Careful,” he murmurs and she steps back, turning to face him.

 

“So,” he starts, dropping her arm, “is it everything you expected, Princess?” She doesn’t really know what she expected so she just nods. He lifts an arm, rubs the back of his neck. His skin has darkened more from the sun and she wonders how red her face must be. He seems to be debating with himself about something, so she waits him out.

 

“You drew a man in that picture,” he says finally and she sucks in a deep breath, “was that your dad?”

 

She nods, looking down at the fabric of his t-shirt rather than his face.

 

“Do you want to talk about him?” He asks quietly and she shakes her head.

 

“No,” she murmurs.

 

“Okay,” he says easily, “do you want to keep walking?” She nods again and he reaches down, slips his hand into hers and tugs her gently farther away from the edge before they start walking again.

 

They turn back after a while, getting back in sight of their previous parking spot just in time to see the SUV pull back up onto the dirt. Raven is behind the wheel now and honks at them, sticking her arm out the window to wave for them to hurry up. Clarke laughs and shakes her head.

 

“Patience was never Raven’s best quality.” Bellamy chuckles and they head back towards the truck.

 

When they crawl into the empty backseat, the air conditioning blasts them and it feels like heaven. Clarke catches her reflection in the rearview mirror and realizes her face is even redder than she’d been expecting. She bites back a groan and just lets the cool air wash over her.

 

“So, where to?” Raven asks from the driver’s seat and Clarke looks between Octavia and Bellamy.

 

“You never actually told me where in California you guys are headed.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Octavia says, like it’s just occurred to her. “Long Beach. Bell’s friend is letting us crash with him for a while until we get our own place.” _Right._ Clarke had almost forgotten that in less than a day she’d be leaving Octavia and Bellamy in California to head back to the other side of the country. Her stomach churns at the thought and when she glances over at Bellamy he’s avoiding her eyes but he looks tense. She pulls her phone out and tosses it at Octavia.

 

“Put the address in and I’ll look up directions,” she instructs and Octavia does so, handing the phone back. Clarke looks up directions based on their current location and nods jerkily down at the phone, checking the time. 4:32 PM.

 

“Well, it’s only about eight hours away from us, we can get there by one in the morning if we drive straight through,” she announces. Octavia groans and flops her head back.

 

“Or we could _not_ spend another night sleeping in this car.” Raven chuckles and shrugs.

 

“I’m in no hurry if no one else is. I don’t mind stopping for a hotel,” she says and Clarke doesn’t bother glancing at Bellamy as she nods.

 

“Yeah, that sounds fine.”

 

-

 

Raven in the driver’s seat changes the atmosphere in the car. Clarke and Bellamy are in the backseat and she’s not sure if they’re both purposely trying not to touch each other but she pulls her legs up underneath her and squishes herself against the door and Bellamy is slouched down on his end of the bench seat so it leaves a solid foot and a half of space between them. Raven has the music louder than it’s been since the Taylor Swift incident and she’s listening to an alternative station that she has to adjust every time they get out of range. Usually it’s almost the exact same station with a different tuner number and different DJs. Octavia is the only thing that’s not different, her bare feet propped up on the dashboard as she nods along to the music.

 

They cross into California before Raven breeches one of the many conversations Clarke has been preparing herself for.

 

“You need to call Wells,” she says suddenly, like they’d been having the conversation all along, and Clarke sighs.

 

“I told him I’d call when I had a minute.” She can feel Raven’s eyes on her in the rearview mirror so she keeps her gaze focused steadily out of her window. She doesn’t notice when Raven pulls out her own phone and presses a few buttons until she hears the ringing over the speakerphone. Her head snaps around and she glares at the back of Raven’s head.

 

“Raven,” she hisses, “please tell me you’re not-“ She’s cut off when the phone call is answered and the deep voice she recognizes as Wells’ comes through a little muffled.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Wells, I have Clarke here and she said she wanted to talk to you,” Raven says casually, like this had all been Clarke’s idea and Clarke knows it’ll only make her the asshole who hurt her best friend’s feelings if she corrects her, so she reaches forward and snatches the phone out of Raven’s hand, turning off the speaker and raising it to her ear. She can feel Bellamy and Octavia’s eyes on her and ignores them.

 

“Hey, Wells,” she greets, putting on a smile so he can hear it in her voice and dragging out the syllables.

 

“Clarke? Thank God, I was trying to give you space but I’ve been so worried!” Clarke chuckles and the smile turns genuine. For as much time as she spent avoiding her friends, she sure did miss them.

 

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have taken off like I did, I just…” She trails off with a shrug that he can’t see.

 

“I understand,” he responds and she can see him in her head, nodding in that slow sagely way that would always either make her extremely grateful for his presence or want to kick him in the shin. Usually the latter was only because he was right when she didn’t want him to be. When she’s silent for too long he goes on,

 

“So, what does this whole thing mean exactly?”

 

“Mean?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, are you coming home? What about school? Your mom-“

 

“Can we not talk about my mom?” She snaps, cutting him off. If there was anyone on the planet that could talk her into forgiving her mom it would be Wells and she doesn’t want to forgive her mom. Not right now at least. Wells sighs and it sounds so disappointed she thinks about hanging up on him. Raven would just make her call him back, though.

 

“Clarke, I know you blame your mom right now but-“

 

“Don’t defend her, Wells, all right?” She’s very aware of everyone in the car trying to pretend not to be interested in the conversation but Raven turned the radio down at some point and Octavia is picking at her nails and Bellamy is openly watching her so, subtlety? Not really a thing. “I don’t need you to defend her. I just need you to be my best friend and support me and not sigh like you’re disappointed in me, okay? Because if I had stayed- if I had stayed and played the perfect daughter and pretended everything was fine for three months, I would have suffocated.” Her voice is shaking and she presses herself further against the door, cradling the phone to her ear. Wells sighs again but it doesn’t sound disappointed now, just tired.

 

They’re all so God damned tired.

 

“Okay,” he says gently but it doesn’t feel like he’s just placating her. “Okay, just tell me you’re coming home at some point.” Clarke nods, though he can’t see it.

 

“Yeah,” she breathes, “yeah, I’m coming home in a few days.” She catches Bellamy’s eye without thinking about it and wonders if he’ll be sad to see her go.

 

“Good. Call me if you need anything, even just to talk, okay?”

 

“Okay, I will. Bye, Wells.”

 

“Bye, Clarke.” She ends the call and tosses the phone into Raven’s lap before slumping back into her seat. Raven adjusts herself in her seat, keeping one hand on the wheel while she shoves the phone back in her pocket.

 

“Well, that went better than I expected,” she comments, giving Clarke a small smile in the mirror. Clarke lets out a tired chuckle and shakes her head. Bellamy reaches over and laces his fingers through hers, squeezing her hand gently.

 

-

 

“So, you ever gonna tell me what happened with Finn?”

 

They’d rotated again not long after Clarke’s phone call with Wells. She’d taken over in the driver’s seat while Raven moved to the passenger’s seat and Octavia joined her brother in the backseat. Clarke sighs at the question and flexes her fingers on the steering wheel.

 

“Have you talked to him?” Clarke asks, wanting to know how much Raven knows before she tries to explain it.

 

“Just through text since you left but he didn’t tell me anything.” Clarke nods. “I mean, I get that he cheated on you but-“

 

“He didn’t,” Clarke cuts her off abruptly and Raven looks over at her in surprise. And, the thing is, he _didn’t_ but if she let that be the story Raven wouldn’t doubt it. It was certainly what she’d been insinuating during their phone call. And she could go on like that, letting Raven think it was all Finn’s fault and hoping no one tries to get details – it would certainly be the easier route. But he _hadn’t_ and he didn’t deserve her letting people think he did just because she didn’t want to deal with _why_ she had broken up with him.

 

“He didn’t,” she reiterates, quieter this time. Raven’s still looking at her like she expects an explanation and Clarke is hoping she’ll just let it go. But she knows better.

 

“Clarke, what happened?” Raven presses and Clarke groans, forces herself to keep her voice calm.

 

“I’m fucked up, okay?” Even so, she can’t keep the bite out of her voice and Raven looks unimpressed by the answer. “Finn was- _is_ perfect, all right? And I couldn’t deal. He kept trying to get me to work through all this shit with my parents and telling me how he loved me and was here for me and I...,” she lets out a frustrated breath and takes a hand off the wheel to run it through her tangled hair. “I snapped, okay?” The car goes quiet and Clarke wants to scream just to break it. She’s fully aware of Octavia and Bellamy being just a little _too_ quiet in the backseat for it to be unintentional and Raven is staring at her like she’s trying to read something Clarke isn’t sure is there. Finally, she gives in.

 

“I couldn’t love him the way he needed me to,” she admits quietly, because this at least she knows Raven can understand. The other woman nods slowly, understanding crossing her features.

 

“You’re not fucked up, Clarke,” is all she says before pointing at the upcoming exit sign. “We should get off here, find a hotel.” Clarke nods, letting out a breath, glad to be done with the conversation. She knows she owes Finn a better explanation than she gave him but that’s one of the problems that can wait until she gets home.

 

-

 

**Needles, CA 7:47 PM**

 

Bellamy comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Clarke is sitting in the middle of her and Raven’s bed with her laptop and tries desperately not to stare. He catches her eye and smirks and – _fuck –_ of course she blushes.

 

“I forgot my clothes,” he explains, not sounding the least bit contrite.

 

“ _Forgot_ ,” she scoffs, “you’re just a show off.” He doesn’t respond but when she glances over again, he’s still smirking. He digs through his bag for clothes and she watches him, his hair curlier when wet and his skin flushed from the hot water. She sets her computer aside and climbs quietly off the bed, moving to stand behind him, memorizing the lines in his back.

 

“Where are Octavia and Raven?” He asks.

 

“They went off in search of food.” He turns and, if he’s surprised to find her right behind him, it doesn’t show. He nods at her, a t-shirt hanging from his fingertips and the air goes tense again but it’s different than the kind of tension in the car earlier. Charged.

 

For all her teasing and baiting, in the end she kisses him first.

 

She reaches up on her toes and his hands come up to cup her face, his t-shirt falling to the floor at her feet. And it’s – well – it’s not that it _isn’t_ nice because it is definitely nice. He smells like the soap she’d borrowed two days ago and tastes like spearmint and he’s holding her so gently. But it’s _too_ nice, _too_ gentle for just sexual tension. For a guy she’ll never see again after tomorrow.

 

So she pushes him, puts her hands on his chest and shoves. Gentle enough not to push him over but harsh enough that he gets the hint, stepping backwards towards the bed and dropping down on it, bring her with him. Clarke presses her hands against his chest again, pushing him back into the scratchy comforter, and climbing on top of him. He groans when her hips meet his and she smirks, remembering that he’s only in a towel. He’s looking up at her with dark eyes and shakes his head.

 

“You’re loving this aren’t you, Princess?” _Fuck_ when did that stupid nickname start growing on her? She grins down at him, doesn’t respond. He retaliates by bucking up into her hips as she leans down to meet his lips again and pulling a sharp gasp from her.

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” she hisses, closing her eyes as a heat rolls through her belly.

 

“I prefer Bellamy,” he chuckles, pulling her face back down to his. “But whatever you want.”

 

Amazingly, the towel holds surprisingly well between them, even as she grinds her hips into his, watching as he takes unsteady breaths in between kissing her. Her heart is beating rapidly when he suddenly rests his hand on her hips, forces her movements to a stop, staring up at her in a way that does not fit the situation. She frowns at him.

 

“What?”

 

“Is this about your ex?” He asks quietly and she’s learning that Bellamy is a lot easier to read than she’d originally thought. She can tell exactly what each answer will get her. She opts for the truth.

 

She says “no.” She doesn’t say _I wish it was_.

 

-

 

Despite how it started, it’s not gentle or slow. They’re working under an undetermined time constraint and neither of them really want to have to explain themselves to Octavia or Raven. So it’s fast and rough but he still makes her come twice before he does. She’s in the bathroom, trying to find the right water temperature for a shower when she hears Raven and Octavia return, boasting the gift of Chinese takeout.

 

“How long has Clarke been in the shower?” She hears Raven’s voice over the sound of the water.

 

“She just got in,” Bellamy responds.

 

“Jeeze, Bell, how long was your shower?” Octavia asks.

 

“I was dirty,” is all he says and Clarke rolls her eyes because she can practically see the stupid smirk at his own secret joke. What a dick.

 

She scrubs harsher than necessary in the shower already beginning to regret the decision to sleep with Bellamy. Not because it wasn’t good because it was _good_. It’s just, well, she’d convinced herself it was just sexual tension, once they released it she could move on, go back to Boston and not have to wonder. Except it feels more like curing the shakes of detox by having one more hit. Bellamy had left his own soap in the shower and she glares it down as she uses the new one she’d bought the day before.

 

She changes into her fresh clothes and twists her hair into a braid before leaving the bathroom. Octavia and Raven are both sitting on the bed with her computer still pushed off to the side, Bellamy’s sitting by himself on the other bed. She feels her cheeks heat up a little and avoids looking over at him. Raven waves vaguely towards the desk where the takeout is spread out.

 

“I got you sesame chicken.” Clarke nods her thanks, stuffing her clothes and toiletries into her suitcase before grabbing the food. She considers the two beds for a moment before dropping down on the floor in between the two beds. Some generic action movie was playing on the TV and Clarke stared at the screen but couldn’t concentrate on it.

 

“Aw, Clarke, Bellamy doesn’t bite,” Octavia smirks when she realizes where she’s taken a seat and Clarke flushes because she has a few red marks on her inner thighs that say different. She doesn’t have to look to know that Bellamy’s smirking.

 

Clarke rolls her eyes and attempts to appear nonchalant as she sends Octavia a withering glance, digging into her food before asking Raven for her computer. They pass the computer like an assembly line before it reaches Clarke on the floor. She’d forgotten she had been going through her bank balances before she’d been distracted by Bellamy. She groans and looks up at Raven.

 

“Any chance my mom gave you money for a return trip back?”

 

“My ticket was a one-way. The goal was to find you and drive your ass back to Boston. Why?”

 

“Gas ain’t cheap,” Clarke explains, staring at the dwindling numbers in her personal account. She’d used up the last of her mom’s money on the hotel room and now she’d be counting on only her personal funds to get them home. Raven nods sagely.

 

“No rest for the wicked,” she intones dryly.

 

By the time they finish dinner it’s nearing elven o’clock and Octavia is staring Bellamy down unflinchingly. She’s witnessed enough of their arguments to know this one is already won but Bellamy puts up a good fight anyway.

 

“Octavia, it’s almost midnight,” he argues.

 

“It is _not,_ it’s eleven and it’s summer. Everywhere is open late now anyway.”

 

“Most fast food places are open twenty-four hours this time of year,” Raven adds helpfully, sitting behind Octavia and smirking as she plays devil’s advocate. Clarke is going through her e-mails – ignoring any regarding school or her mother – and barely listening to the conversation.

 

“ _Why_ do we need ice cream right now?” Bellamy asks, sounding frustrated but like he knows his defeat is imminent.

 

“ _Because_ ,” Octavia begins, like the answer is obvious and he’s stupid for not getting it, “tomorrow we’ll get to Miller’s and we’ll never see Clarke and Raven again. We have to do something special to commemorate.” Clarke’s fingers still on her touchpad and Bellamy goes silent. The weight settles back on her chest and Bellamy huffs out a sigh, jumping up from the bed.

 

“Come on, then, Princess,” he says as if she’d been a part of the conversation the whole time, “I’m gonna need help.” She doesn’t question it as he scoops the keys off of the desk and tosses them to her.

 

-

 

They find a twenty four hour convenience mart and Bellamy picks out ice cream while Clarke locates the paper bowls and plastic spoons. She also finds a can of whipped cream and chocolate syrup and heads back to the ice cream to find Bellamy holding two cartons, weighing them in his hands. He turns to her and holds them out, one in each hand.

 

“Cookies and crème or mint chocolate chip?” He asks, holding them up for her. She shakes her head in mock disappointment.

 

“Whatever happened to just classic chocolate or vanilla?”

 

“Come on, Clarke,” he smirks, leaning towards her slightly. “Live a little.”

 

She kisses him again and she _really_ has to stop that. He chuckles against her mouth as she wraps her fingers around his bicep, pressing the bag of spoons into his arm. She squeals and jumps back when one of the cartons of ice cream presses against her back. He laughs, pulling the carton away from her as she glares at him. He holds it up in defense.

 

“Sorry,” he offers but he doesn’t really sound it.

 

“Get the mint chip,” she says before stalking off towards the checkout. She hears the freezer door open and close followed by his sneakers against the floor as he catches up with her. He grabs her around the waist with his free hand, it’s still cold but less surprising this time.

 

“Hey, don’t be mad,” he tries, “it was an accident. You distracted me.” She stops and looks up at him.

 

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

 

“What, distracting me?” He smirks. “Don’t be. In fact…” He trails off leaning down to meet her lips again and she almost lets him. At the last second, she steps back and his brow furrows.

 

“We really shouldn’t,” she tells him quietly and he frowns.

 

“Why?”

 

“It was a one-time thing, okay? Tomorrow I have to go back to reality and so do you.” She watches his face harden, his guard come up. _Good_ , she thinks. Better if he hates her.

 

“Right, sorry, _Princess_.” The nickname feels like a slur in contrast with the way he’d used it while she was on top of him. “I forgot I’m not worthy, right? Just good for a quick fuck?” She flinches at the words but decides she might as well go all in. No point in backtracking now.

 

“Right,” she tells him, nodding once. “Earlier, that was just physical.” He stares at her for a minute before straightening up, taking the items from her hands.

 

“You’re a terrible fucking liar.”

 

She knows.

 

When they get back to the room, Octavia is sprawled across one bed with the remote in her hand, searching for something on the television besides infomercials. Raven is leaning against the headboard on the other, Clarke’s computer in her lap.

 

“Good news,” she says, glancing up at Clarke, “your mom is unfreezing your account for the drive back.”

 

“Awesome,” Clarke responds dully, dropping down on the bed next to Raven. The drive back had been excruciatingly silent and tense. On the upside, the ice cream was in no danger of melting with the icy air Bellamy was giving off. Raven looks down at Clarke, practically curled into her side as Bellamy spreads the ice cream across the desk, tossing the takeout containers in the garbage. Raven raises an eyebrow at Clarke who shakes her head – _not now_ – and then nods in understanding.

 

“Finally!” Octavia jumps up from the bed, practically skipping across the room to start making bowls of ice cream. “ _Ooh_ , mint chocolate chip, good choice!” Bellamy glances over at Clarke at the comment but it isn’t any warmer than before and she curls herself tighter against Raven, seeking comfort. Raven, understanding, runs her hand over Clarke’s braid gently but doesn’t say anything. Octavia makes four large sundaes and passes them out, looking quite pleased with her idea.

 

Clarke doesn’t want to disappoint her so she eats it slowly, letting most of it melt. It still sits in her stomach like a chunk of ice. It’s well after midnight by the time they all settle in to sleep. Raven and Clarke are sharing a bed and Bellamy’s on the floor again. Clarke expects to be unable to sleep but the day has tired her out and she crashes almost as soon as she gets comfortable under the blankets.

 

And then she wakes up to a thump from Octavia’s side of the room, followed by a groan. She doesn’t know what time it is but it’s still dark outside so it can’t be more than a few hours since she fell asleep. She hears another groan come from the floor before Bellamy sits up, nursing his arm.

 

“Thanks, O,” he grumbles.

 

“Well, what did you expect when I woke up with you spooning me?” Clarke can really only see her outline but she can still see the dramatic shiver she gives. Raven groans next to her, letting out an annoyed huff.

 

“The floor sucks, okay? I want a bed.”

 

“Well, not mine!”

 

“Oh my _fucking_ God!” Raven sits up suddenly, kicking the blankets off of herself. “Octavia move over, I’m coming over there. Bellamy can share with Clarke.” She’s already rolling out of the bed and pulling Bellamy off the floor, shoving him in the direction of the bed before Clarke can realize what a _bad_ idea this is. Bellamy’s climbing into the bed where Raven had vacated it, though, and Clarke isn’t going to be the one to refuse.

 

He settles onto his back and she’s just too tired to deal with it so she turns her back to him and falls back asleep.

 

The next time she wakes, there’s a good amount of sunlight pouring in from behind the thick curtains over the window. She flinches and thinks about rolling away from it when she realizes Bellamy is wrapped around her. His hand is covering hers where it lays on the mattress and every point of contact between her skin and his is buzzing. She stares at his hand, tan and large and a contrast to hers, resting over hers and frowns. He flexes his fingers, tightens them around hers, and she realizes he’s also awake.

 

“Stop thinking so loud,” he murmurs, his breath tickling the back of her neck. His voice is rough from sleep and lacks the coldness of the night before and she can’t help but smile.

 

“Can’t help it,” she breathes as he nuzzles his nose against her hair. She can only imagine what a mess her braid must be.

 

“M’sorry,” he says quietly and she chuckles.

 

“Are _you_ apologizing for _my_ thinking too hard?”

 

“Nah, for being a dick yesterday,” he clarifies and she tenses, not ready to have this conversation again. He’s not supposed to be apologizing, he’s supposed to hate her. It’s supposed to be easy to walk away in a few hours.

 

“Bellamy,” she starts but he cuts her off, his hand squeezing hers gently.

 

“Come on, Clarke, I know you like me.”

 

“Like you?” She laughs. “Bellamy, that’s so high school.” It strikes her suddenly that they might not being having this conversation in private. She flips around, pulling her hand from his, to look over at the other bed.

 

“Where are Raven and Octavia?” She asks when she realizes it’s empty. Bellamy shifts to accommodate her change in position but doesn’t put any distance between them.

 

“I woke up as they were leaving. They were probably going for breakfast.” Clarke nods slowly, her hair pulling against the pillow. She reaches up and runs a hand over it, trying to smooth it out. Bellamy smirks at her and she rolls her eyes.

 

“Fine, _whatever_ , but you like me, too,” she pouts and he chuckles.

 

“Yeah, I do,” he agrees softly and it makes her frown.

 

“This sucks.”

 

“That it does, Princess,” he sighs, leaning forward to kiss her softly.

 

They _really_ have to stop that.

 

They get up and dressed before Octavia and Raven can come back to find them still wrapped around each other in bed. It doesn’t progress passed kissing this time but they’re slow and languid, like they’re trying to memorize each other. Clarke doubts she could forget regardless.

 

She changes into a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, fixes her braid, and sits on the bed while Bellamy takes his turn in the bathroom. When he comes out, he puts his stuff in his bag and zips it before coming to stand in front of her. He leans down and kisses her once more.

 

“This is gonna hurt,” he murmurs against her lips. She doesn’t need him to elaborate, just nods in agreement as he pulls away.

 

They’re back to opposite sides of the room when Octavia and Raven come back. Octavia is carrying a large box of donuts and Raven has a holder with four coffees. Clarke jumps up and helps them set the stuff down, taking a cup of coffee gratefully.

 

It’s obvious they’re all dragging their feet on getting their things together to leave. It’s Octavia who finally makes the suggestion (Clarke is realizing all of the good ideas this trip have come from Octavia and the thought makes her even sadder to be leaving her).

 

“Let’s go to the beach!” Three heads swing around to look at her. Bellamy is the first to respond.

 

“O, I know it’s California but we’re kind of landlocked right now.”

 

“Well, not _now_ ,” Octavia drones, rolling her eyes at her brother. “When we get to Long Beach. Before we go to Miller’s we should go swimming.”

 

“I don’t think I packed anything to swim in,” Clarke tells her warily. “Raven?”

 

“I was a girl on a mission.” Octavia sighs like they’re all so painfully boring and Clarke thinks that maybe, in her mind, they are.

 

“So we stop and buy something. Pretty much anywhere is probably selling bikinis this time of year.” Clarke raises a skeptical eyebrow but Raven shrugs from across the room.

 

“What the hell, right?”

 

Clarke doesn’t think it’s exactly the response Octavia was expecting but she pumps her fist in victory anyway.

 

-

 

**Outside Needles, CA 10:28 AM**

 

They find a department store off the edge of the highway and get off at the next exit, circling back to it. Once it had been decided that they would actually be doing something when they got to Long Beach, everyone had suddenly kicked themselves into gear to get checked out of the hotel and on the road. Clarke was pretty sure she was the only one still bothering to shuffle her feet a bit.

 

As soon as they’d gotten inside, Bellamy had wished them a grim _good luck_ before disappearing to another part of the store. Octavia located the women’s section and immediately picked out a bikini and a beach towel for each of them, plus three extras for herself. Clarke had argued that Octavia had a bikini in her bag but she was insistent that another couldn’t hurt.

 

“I am moving to California, after all,” she had reasoned and Clarke had given in.

 

She and Raven were now milling about while they waited for Octavia to choose one of the suits she had picked out and come out of the dressing room. Raven bumps into Clarke’s arm and she looks up, raising an eyebrow.

 

“So, what’s up with you and Bellamy?” She inquires and Clarke averts her gaze to the top she had been looking at.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Please,” Raven scoffs, “last night, you leave with tall, dark, and trouble and come back looking like you’re about to fall apart.” Clarke chews her bottom lip and refuses to meet Raven’s eye. She’d known her friend would bring it up eventually but, well, she was hoping for later rather than sooner. Octavia comes rushing out of the dressing room and practically runs back to the display of swim suits, picking out a bright orange bikini.

 

“None of them were right,” she explains quickly, running past them and heading back into the dressing room. They both watch her go in various states of amusement before Raven turns back on Clarke.

 

“Seriously, Clarke, spill.”

 

Clarke lets out a harsh breath and throws her hands up, bikini flying around from where she grips the hanger in one hand, and gives in.

 

“I screwed him, okay?” She hisses, not sure how much of their conversation could carry to Octavia but positive she doesn’t want to share this part. Raven’s eyes go wide, Clarke knows that wasn’t what she was expecting and sighs again.

 

“Why? Was this, like, a rebound thing? I mean, I know he’s hot but-“

 

“But in about four hours we’re going to be leaving him here while we head back to Boston, I know.”

 

“ _So_?”

 

“No,” Clarke murmurs, “it wasn’t a rebound thing. It would all be so much easier if it were but, God, I really _like_ him, Raven. Isn’t that pathetic?”

 

“Does he feel the same way?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, he said as much this morning. So, the sex was amazing, he’s gorgeous, he’s into me, and he’s moving to the opposite side of the country. Isn’t that just stupendous?” Raven is frowning at her and Clark feels like she’s going to throw up from the anxiety building in her chest.

 

“Oh, Clarke,” Raven says quietly and Clarke spins on her foot suddenly, starting in the direction of the checkout.

 

“I’m gonna go pay.”

 

She plans to, really, but somehow ends up going up and down various aisles looking for Bellamy. She shouldn’t be seeking him out but she can’t help herself either. Eventually she finds him sitting in the tiny little book section, his long legs spread out in front of him and a book in his hand. His brow is furrowed in concentration and she smiles at the sight, walking forward until she can sit next to him.

 

“Hey,” she greets and he looks up abruptly, like he hadn’t even heard her come over. She smirks at him and he returns it.

 

“Hey,” he echoes. “That was quick. You find something?” She nods, holding up the hanger with the bikini dangling from it in a jerky motion before dropping it back down into her lap.

 

“Your sister is still looking though,” she tells him and he shakes his head.

 

“I tried to warn you.” Clarke attempts a smile but she must not manage it because Bellamy frowns, looking concerned. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Raven knows,” she sighs.

 

“Knows what?” She raises an eyebrow at him and it clicks. “ _Ah_ , _knows_. Gotcha. Is that bad?”

 

“No,” she shrugs, “it’s just I know her and she’s gonna want to analyze whatever _this_ is to death and I’ve already done that and it doesn’t really matter because…” she trails off, shrugs, and stares at her hands in her lap. He knows exactly _why_ , though, and reaches over to lace his fingers through hers. They’re quiet for a while and Clarke realizes Bellamy has gone back to the book he was reading.

 

“What are you reading?” She asks and he angles it so she can see the title. _Augustus: The First Emperor of Rome_. She rolls her eyes.

 

“Jesus you are such a nerd,” she teases and he turns suddenly, catching her lips in a hungry kiss. When he pulls away they’re both grinning stupidly.

 

“I told you, I prefer _Bellamy_.”

 

“Oh, good,” she frowns, jokingly, “the asshole’s back. I was beginning to wonder if you’d been body snatched.”

 

“Cute, Princess.”

 

It’s another ten minutes before Clarke’s phone rings, interrupting their totally inappropriate make out session in the middle of the book aisle, and Raven’s name flashes on the screen.

 

“Hello?” She answers, clearing her throat and shoving Bellamy away from where he’d moved to her neck.

 

“ _Hey, we’re about to checkout. Where are you?_ ”

 

“Oh, I found Bellamy in the book section. We’ll head over now.” She hangs up before Raven can respond or make a comment. She stands first and Bellamy holds out a hand, she tugs him up from the ground roughly and he grunts.

 

“ _Damn_ , Princess, don’t pull my arm off,” he gripes, rubbing at his shoulder.

 

“That’s just a taste of the hell you’ll pay if I have a hickey.” He smirks and it doesn’t reassure her. Bellamy puts the book he’d given up on reading a while ago back and heads down the aisle away from her. He stops at the end, noticing her hesitation.

 

“You coming?”

 

“Yeah, sorry.” She swipes the book and hides it between the bathing suit and towel to buy for him.

 

Bellamy offers to drive the last leg of the trip, knowing Clarke and Raven will have a long way to drive back between the two of them. The reminder resettles the anxiety in her chest and Clarke can’t be sure if she’s more nervous about leaving Bellamy and Octavia or about going home and having to face that. She claims the front seat, leaving Raven and Octavia to the backseat where she can hear Raven asking Octavia about her plans once they get to Long Beach. Octavia explains that she has to live there for a year before she can go to community college so she’s going to work for a year and then enroll. Bellamy reaches over, knowing they’re distracted, and takes Clarke’s hand. She glances over at him with a smile and the tightness in her chest worsens.

 

Octavia had used Clarke’s phone to find a public stretch of beach in the city and adjust their directions accordingly and the traffic and directions suggested they’d be there in a little over three hours. Clarke had spent a lot of the journey from Boston to Arizona rushing to get where she was going, sure that being at the Grand Canyon would fix something inside of her, make her feel closer to her dad. She had spent every moment since Arizona trying to slow down and fix herself on her own.

 

She was beginning to realize she didn’t _need_ Bellamy but she certainly wanted him anyway.

 

-

 

**Lenwood, CA 1:18 PM**

 

At about the halfway point, they stop for gas and a bathroom break. Raven and Bellamy go into use the restrooms and buy snacks and Octavia hangs back with Clarke as she pumps the gas, leaning against the SUV. It’s been nearly two minutes and Octavia has just been silently watching Clarke.

 

“You’re staring at me,” Clarke comments when she can’t take it anymore. “What’s up, O?”

 

“Bellamy’s the only one who’s ever called me that,” Octavia tells her with a small smile. Clarke looks back towards the pump.

 

“Oh, sorry.”

 

“No! It’s okay. Just no one besides him has ever taken to it is all.” Clarke nods. “You’re sure you can’t just stay out here? I’m sure Miller could put you up for a while if you can pay your own way.” Clarke sighs and shakes her head.

 

“Thanks, Octavia, but no. I’d love to but I can’t keep running from reality. I have to deal with my mom and I start school in the fall. This has been fun but,” she shrugs sadly, “it hasn’t been real.”

 

“What about my brother?” Clarke jerks her head around, surprised at the direction the conversation had taken but Octavia rolls her eyes. “I’m not blind, okay? I’m just… eccentric.” Clarke chuckles and returns to watching the numbers ticking upwards on the gas meter. Her mom had refused to reopen her accounts until Raven confirmed they were on their way back so she was still using her personal funds to fill the tank.

 

“It’s- I don’t know, Octavia, it’s complicated,” she offers, trying not to sound patronizing because it’s not that it’s just too complicated for Octavia to understand. It’s too complicated for Clarke. Octavia nods slowly letting this information sink in.

 

“Yeah, that’s what he said, too.” Clarke frowns at the news that Octavia had spoken to Bellamy as well. “I was just kind of hoping you’d, like, change your mind or something. For true love, or whatever it is in movies.” Clarke turns to smile at Octavia but she looks totally unaffected – not like a little girl who still believes in true love but a grown up woman who’d never had a reason to in the first place. It makes Clarke’s chest ache.

 

“Movies lie,” Clarke comments.

 

“Yeah,” is all Octavia says.

 

-

 

**Mothers Beach, Long Beach, CA 3:34 PM**

 

They stop at a rest stop when they’re nearly at the beach to change into their swim suits. Clarke hides the book in her suit case under the sweatshirt she’d been sleeping in. She isn’t sure why she hasn’t just given it to him but she kind of likes having it as a secret, waiting to give it to Bellamy when they have a moment alone.

 

When they reach the beach, a busy family spot, they all tumble out of the car, excited for the reprieve. Clarke has started to realize that the longer they spent _out_ of the car, the more exhausted they were after shorter trips in it. After spending whole days driving, the four hour drive from Needles to Long Beach should have been nothing and yet Clarke’s legs ached to be stretched out. The girls head off to scope out a spot while Bellamy hangs by the car to call Miller and let him know they’ve arrived.

 

“Stay in sight of the car, all right?” He had called to them. “No repeats of Pennsylvania.”

 

Octavia had smirked and waved him off but had eventually set her towel down where they could easily see the truck. Once they’ve pulled off their shorts and shirts, Octavia drags Clarke towards the water but Raven waves them off, offering to wait for Bellamy so he knows where they are.

 

“God, you’re so slow,” Octavia complains when she has to almost literally drag Clarke across the beach, “we’re already loosing daylight!”

 

“It’s almost July and we’re in Southern California, Octavia,” Clarke laughs, though she does pick up her pace a little mostly to alleviate the tugging on her arm, “we’re not losing daylight!”

 

“What _ever_ , can we just _go_?” Clarke laughs again but Octavia takes off at a run towards the waves and she has no choice but to follow. Octavia splashes into the surf, laughing as the waves push against her legs. Clarke joins her and Octavia kicks water up at her.

 

“Hey!” Clarke yelps, gaping at her. “Rude!” She kicks some water back at her and they keep going like that, trying to avoid getting any of the salt water in their eyes as they wade deeper into the ocean.

 

“All right, children,” Raven calls as she wades into the shallows with Bellamy and spots them. “Watch the hair.” Octavia rolls her eyes and Clarke grins, winking at Octavia conspiratorially as she moves towards Raven. Raven is too busy watching the group of preteens getting closer as they play to notice and by the time she does Clarke is leaping at her, shoving her under water. She comes up sputtering and wiping sea water from her face.

 

“Bitch!” She gasps, glaring at Clarke who laughs and blows her a kiss. Octavia is doubled over so she doesn’t see Bellamy moving around Clarke to get to her. He grabs her around the waist and dives into a wave, holding on to her tightly. They hear Octavia shriek before they disappear under the water and this time Raven lets out a loud laugh as they come up, Bellamy looking smug and Octavia looking less bothered than Clarke is sure she’s trying to seem. The water is pleasantly cool and the sun beating down on them keeps their skin warm until it starts to lower across the horizon.

 

Raven and Clarke leave the siblings to themselves in the water and head for their towels in hopes of soaking up some of the sun before they lose it. Raven lays back while Clarks sits up on her elbows, sunglasses on her nose, watching them take turns shoving each other under the waves and making sure the other comes back up. Rough but concerned. It’s sweet in a weird way she’ll probably never understand without a sibling.

 

“Wow, girl, you’ve got it bad,” Raven comments and Clarke looks over, frowning in confusion, to realize she’s sat up and is now watching the pair as well.

 

“What?”

 

“Come on, Clarke,” she smirks, “I hate to break it to you, but it’s really fucking obvious.” Clarke sighs and lays back on the towel, her cheeks heating up from more than just the sun.

 

“Am I a terrible person?” Raven looks back, raises an eyebrow at the question. “For moving on so quickly.”

 

“I don’t know,” Raven shrugs, “if you never loved Finn in the first place then, no. I just wouldn’t tell him about it.” Clarke nods. She doubts she’ll feel up to telling anyone about Bellamy anyway. At least, not the whole story. Fresh wounds and all that.

 

“Now, about your mom.” Clarke groans and drops her head against the sand, looking up towards the sky as it slowly turns purple and pink.

 

“Are we doing this now?”

 

“I’ve let you get away without it for a while, don’t you think?” Clarke sighs but refuses to respond. Because, yeah, fine, that’s fair. Raven waits a minute and, when she realizes Clarke isn’t going to start, dives in.

 

“You have to find a way to live with her.”

 

“Do I?” Clarke asks dryly, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

“Yes.” She doesn’t have to look over to know Raven is glaring at her. Yeah, she’s acting like a stubborn child but _whatever_ she thinks she has a right in this instance. Raven lets out a harsh breath and Clarke knows she’s trying not to be frustrated with her but she’s also not making it easy on Raven. She sighs.

 

“I don’t think this is something she can fix,” Clarke says quietly.

 

“You’re not the only one hurting Clarke.” She _knows_ that. Really, she does, it’s just that it _feels_ like she is. It feels like this pain will never end and there’s not a single person in the world who will ever know what it feels like. And she also knows she’s not being fair to everyone else, she knows everyone else is hurting too, that other people have gone through the same thing. But her feelings aren’t logical and she’s tired of compartmentalizing everything.

 

“I know that,” she says softly. She also knows that Raven never had a great home life and she had come to look at Clarke’s family as the perfect family unit. Clarke had never been able to shatter that illusion, no matter how many gritty details she’d made Raven privy to.

 

She’s always kind of thought Raven just needed something to believe in, despite her jaded act.

 

“It’s just- It was her _fault_ , Rae, it was her fault and she won’t even _see_ it! She didn’t defend him, she could have saved him, but she let them lock him up and now he’s _dead_ and it’s because of her.” Raven sighs and Clarke knows what’s coming back and she’s tired of hearing it.

 

“There’s no guarantee that if she’d plead his case it would have mattered. All it might have accomplished was them digging harder, trying to find another reason.”

 

“He was _innocent_ ,” Clarke argues.

 

“ _I know_ , Clarke, but that company _wanted_ him in jail one way or another and your dad knew that. He knew that if he hadn’t been put away they’d have found another way, a way that might have endangered you and Abby.” Clarkes huffs out a sigh, tired and frustrated from the conversation. All the logical reasons in the world for why she shouldn’t feel the way she does just weigh on her like a rock and don’t actually make her feel any better. All the titles made her feel sick to her stomach.

 

_Jake Griffin, the whistle blower._

 

_Jake Griffin, the hero._

 

_Jake Griffin, the embezzler._

 

_Jake Griffin, the prison statistic._

 

Her head felt like it was going to explode or cave in or… _something_. Before it has the chance or Raven can say something else, Bellamy and Octavia come running back up to them. Octavia is on Bellamy’s back piggyback style and it is incredibly endearing. The pounding in Clarke’s head lessens.

 

“So, I talked to Miller and told him about you guys and he offered to put you up for the night, feed you a real meal, so you can head out tomorrow instead of driving through the night,” Bellamy tells them, Octavia sliding off his back. They both seem oblivious to the tension between her and Raven and Clarke would rather keep it that way. She plasters on a smile, looks to Raven and shrugs.

 

“Up to you,” she tells her and Raven sighs, accepting that it’s the end of their previous conversation and nods.

 

“That sounds really nice.”

 

-

 

Miller meets them at the beach after they’ve all given up on the water. The sun is a bright orange color and it makes Clarke ache for a paint set, she settles for taking a picture on her phone to try to recreate it on canvas later. Raven teases her for being _so predictable_ because she knows exactly what she’s doing and Clarke rolls her eyes, smiling at the light hearted mocking, glad to know the tension is gone for now. A group of teenagers have started a bonfire down the beach and the music drifts down the sand towards them. Clarke watches them and wonders what demons they have among them, if they’re trying to escape the way she is.

 

Miller heads towards them, not looking beach ready in a pair of cargo shorts, a button down denim shirt, and tie, and Bellamy stands to greet him. The two shake hands before Bellamy makes introductions. Octavia seems to be just as much a stranger to him as Raven and Clarke because Bellamy introduces her as _my sister, you’ve heard of_ and Octavia smiles and shakes Miller’s hand. Clarke wonders if Miller is a first or last name but doesn’t ask.

 

“Ah, you must be the stowaways,” he jokes when Bellamy introduces her and Raven.

 

“Other way around, actually,” Clarke smirks and he nods, glancing at Bellamy with a smirk of his own.

 

“Yeah, Blake told me he let his precious car get stolen.” Bellamy rolls his eyes and Clarke frowns at the name Blake before she realizes it must be Bellamy and Octavia’s last name. Jesus she didn’t even know his last name until now. She stops herself just short of actually slapping a hand to her own forehead.

 

Apparently when Miller had offered a real meal, he hadn’t meant it with the intention to cook for them. Raven, Octavia, and Clarke take turns changing in the back of the truck, trying to brush the tangles out of their hair. Clarke’s hair is too far gone and all she manages is making it look _slightly_ more intentional. Bellamy’s shorts blend well enough as normal pants and he only has to put his t-shirt back on to be ready for dinner. Miller offers to drive everyone but Clarke doesn’t want to leave the SUV so she suggests she should just follow him. He and Bellamy drive together in Miller’s car while the girls pile into the SUV.

 

The first few minutes of the ride are silent save for the quiet noise of the radio and Octavia, sprawled out across the backseat, alternating between humming along and murmuring the lyrics. Clarke’s fully aware of the fact that Raven has been studying her since they got in the car but refuses to acknowledge for fear of continuing their earlier conversation.

 

“You could stay, you know.” Clarke jerks her head around in surprise, having to look back to the road immediately. That hadn’t been what she was expecting.

 

“What?”

 

“You could stay,” Raven reiterates, “you know, if you wanted.” Clarke glances back in the rearview mirror and Octavia is no longer lying across the seats, sitting in the middle now, primed to jump into the conversation. Clarke sighs, she’s not in the mood to be ganged up on. She knows Raven won’t try to convince her either way, just wants to make sure she knows the option is there, but it’s not really there.

 

“No I can’t,” Clarke sighs. “You were right earlier. I have to go home, get my shit together, and then… I don’t know.” She shrugs but for the first time in years the idea of not having every detail planned out, laid in front of her like a road map, doesn’t terrify her. It actually gives her a little hope.

 

And, honestly, maybe that was the point of this whole thing because Boston had always been her home. She’d grown up there, lived in the same house since she was three, met all of her friends there. But the truth was she was having a hard time thinking of Boston as _home_ without her dad there. Maybe she had just needed to go out and see if she could find another one.

 

She wasn’t sure if California or Bellamy or anywhere she’d been so far was it but she wasn’t averse to finding out.

 

Raven nods and Clarke wonders for a moment if she’d said it all out loud but realizes Raven just _understands_ the way Raven always does. Raven understoodwhen her boyfriend left her for Clarke. She understoodwhen Clarke just wanted to know who she was. She understood when Clarke left in the middle of the night for God knows where in her dads SUV.

 

Clarke reaches over and squeezes Raven’s hand, just wanting to convey things she can’t find the words for. How much she loves and appreciates Raven, how much good their friendship has done her. How glad she is Raven was the one Abby had sent to fetch her at the Grand Canyon. Because she loves Monty and Wells, too, but they wouldn’t have done nearly as much good as Raven has.

 

Raven squeezes her hand back and Clarke knows she gets it.

 

Octavia sits back again, realizing she can’t help change Clarke’s mind, and Clarke catches her eye in the mirror and gives her a sad smile.

 

-

 

Bellamy and Clarke end up in Miller’s guestroom, no one questioning it when Octavia had insisted they take the bed and she and Raven could sleep on Miller’s couches. Miller doesn’t really seem to care who goes where as long as they all _shut the hell up_ because he actually has to be at work in the morning _unlike you bums_. He says all of this in the most confusingly affectionate way and Clarke thinks she and Miller could get along well if she weren’t leaving.

 

The four take turns using the bathroom and the guest room to change into sleep clothes which Clarke realizes later was totally pointless because the minute they’re in bed, she and Bellamy are pulling their clothes off each other anyway. He’s slow and gentle and she almost cries because _fuck it’s so unfair_. They try to keep as quiet as they can but he’s already learned what spots make her gasp sharply every time and she’s found out exactly what will make him moan into her mouth as he kisses her.

 

His hands leave scorch marks that tingle long after his fingers have moved on to other parts of her skin and she digs her nails into his skin as he moves his hips against hers, hoping to leave something he can remember her by. She doesn’t want to be the only one who can’t forget. He sucks a red mark into her lower stomach and she bites down gently on his shoulder at one point to fight back a moan.

 

When she checks the expiration date on his condom before tearing it open, he smirks at her.

 

“It hasn’t been _that_ long, Princess,” he teases.

 

“ _Sure_.” She tries to appear teasing even though the thought makes her stomach clench up. She must not succeed because the next time he kisses her it’s slow and light like he knows exactly what she’s thinking.

 

He lets out a grunt as he slides into her and she rotates her hips. She shoves her hand over his mouth, can’t contain the smile at having pulled the sound out of him.

 

“ _Shh_ , you’re sister-“

 

“God, Clarke, please don’t mention my sister right now,” he cuts her off, his eyes squeezed shut as she rotates her hips again, urging him forward. She laughs and nods.

 

“Okay but just _be quiet_ ,” she hisses teasingly and he _growls_ , flipping them over so she’s straddling him, his hand sliding up and down her spine slowly, making her nerve endings spark and then he bucks his hips up into her and she couldn’t form a coherent sentence if she tried.

 

Afterwards, she tugs on his discarded t-shirt and darts across the hall without any underwear to pee. When she comes back into the bedroom, she notices the book still in her suitcase, no longer hidden by the sweatshirt she’d been wearing. She snags it before climbing back into the bed. Bellamy is laying on his back, eyes closed, looking fucking _blissed_ and Clarke can’t help but grin because _she’d done that_. He opens his eyes at the movement on the bed and looks over at her. She sits back on her heels next to him, the book behind her back, and smiles at him.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey,” he echoes.

 

“I got you something.” His eyebrows go up.

 

“From the bathroom?”

 

“No,” she sighs, rolling her eyes, before pulling the book from behind her back and holding it out to him. And, okay, maybe this is more something for _herself_ because _she_ bought it for him and every time he reads it or sees it or thinks of something he’d learned about Augustus from it he’ll probably think of _her._ She wants him to think of her at least sometimes. He’s looking at the book like she’s done some huge thing for him and, okay, it’s a _book_ not the holy grail but he’s taking it from her hands and turning it over in his.

 

“When did you get this?” He asks and she shrugs, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

 

“I picked it back up when you weren’t looking,” she explains, “it’s just, you know, a thank you. It’s nothing big but–“ He cuts her off, sitting up to kiss her and yeah that’s sort of the response she was hoping for. They settle back against the pillows. Bellamy puts the book on the nightstand next to him and wraps his arms around her.

 

“Are you ready to go home tomorrow?” He asks after a few minutes. She wonders vaguely what time it is, whether _tomorrow_ is actually _today_ but decides the answer probably wouldn’t make her feel better either way.

 

“No,” she admits and she doesn’t mean to sound quite so much like she’s pouting but he chuckles and he chest vibrates against her back.

 

“You can always come back,” he says, sounding amused and she’s maybe a little bitter he doesn’t sound as sad as she wants him to. “For a vacation or whatever. I’m sure O would like that.” She frowns, flips around in his arms to face him.

 

“Would you?” She realizes as she asks it that it’s only his voice that sounds light, his eyes give away that he’s feeling the same way about her impending departure as she is.

 

“You know I would,” he responds and she nods, tucking her head under his chin. She breathes in the smell of sweat and salt water that sticks to his skin and hopes she remembers it.

 

-

 

Octavia cries. She starts tearing up almost as soon as Clarke stumbles out of the guest room, bed head and full bladder, demanding coffee from whoever will supply her with some. Miller tells her where the mugs are and points to the half full pot on the counter. She attempts to look grateful but – coffee first, niceties later. Octavia is sniffling and trying very hard _not_ to cry but Clarke can tell and she sits down next to her once she’s gotten a mug of coffee, leaning against her. Bellamy comes out of the shower a few minutes later and Raven decides to jump in. Clarke figures it’s a good idea since she doesn’t really want to listen to Raven complain about her hair being full of salt all the way until the next time they stop at a hotel.

 

“Well, I talked to the moving` company,” Bellamy announces, heading over to fill up a mug for himself, “and they’re _somehow_ still a day behind us so they should be here in the morning tomorrow.” Clarke hadn’t actually thought to ask just how much of their stuff had been in the stolen car, she hadn’t known at the time that they were actually _moving_ across the country. She was glad that it apparently hadn’t been everything. She imagines boxes of Bellamy’s books and Octavia’s clothes, miscellaneous pictures and items of sentimental significance to them, travelling across the country independently.

 

Bellamy spots Clarke leaning against Octavia who is still sniffling and staring hard at her own mug of what Clarke has realized is actually hot chocolate and quickly pours his own mug and hightails it into the living room to join Miller. Clarke pulls herself off of Octavia’s shoulder and turns to face her.

 

“We’re gonna talk, okay?” She assures her. “You guys have my phone number and we can text whenever and, you know, when you and Bellamy have your own place I can come back and visit for like a week or whatever.” Octavia nods but doesn’t look like it makes her feel any better. Clarke can understand, after spending almost five days with no one else but her and Bellamy as company, it was going to be weird to be so far from them.

 

“You should come back right after we find a place, so you can help me talk Bell out of all the ugly furniture he wants to buy. He has no taste in fabrics.” Octavia sniffs, trying to lighten the mood but looking over at Clarke meaningfully. “He’s pretty good at people, though.”

 

Clarke doesn’t know what to say to that so she reaches over and squeezes Octavia in a one armed hug.

 

Clarke twists her hair up in a bun and declines the invitation to take a shower after Raven. Miller comments that the pipes might be a little cold and she decides she can just take one when they stop for a hotel later that night. She thinks they’ve delayed the inevitable enough. She packs away all her things, scribbles a thank you note on a piece of paper she’d torn out of her sketchbook for Bellamy, thanking him for everything he’d done for her in the past few days, and tucking it inside the book about Augustus. Raven is putting all their things back in the trunk of the SUV while Octavia hugs her tightly.

 

“You better fucking text me when you get home,” Octavia demands and Clarke laughs, trying to hold back her own tears, and nods her assent. Octavia pulls Raven into a tight hug next while Clarke mills around by Bellamy. Miller had offered them each a _nice meeting you_ before he’d had to leave for work.

 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” he says quietly and she knows he’s trying for levity, even if it falls flat.

 

“Fucking nerd,” she smirks, misty-eyed and already missing him. He kisses her. Cupping her face as she reaches out for him, clings to him, aches to not have to let go. She forgets that Raven and Octavia are standing there but it doesn’t matter anyway because they knew and she doesn’t really care even if they didn’t.

 

-

 

**Long Beach, CA 10:23 AM**

 

Raven offers to drive first and Clarke lets her, too emotionally drained to be behind the wheel anyway. Raven would deny it but Clarke knows she’d seen her eyes getting wet as they’d left the Blakes behind at Miller’s apartment. They pull up to the stop light at the entrance ramp onto the highway going east and Raven stops behind a line of cars.

 

“Are you sure you’re ready to go home?” She asks, looking over at Clarke.

 

Clarke’s phone buzzes and she looks away from Raven to check the text.

 

_Hasten slowly – Augustus_

 

She smiles and sets the phone down without replying, looking back over at Raven.

 

“No,” she admits, “but I’m ready to move forward.”

 

-

 

**Boston, MA 9:37 AM _Thirteen Months Later_**

 

_God this place is fucking dreary._

 

Clarke stops what she’s doing as she smirks down at her phone and replies to the text.

 

_Okay Mr. California. What’s your ETA?_

 

_Assuming this taxi driver isn’t completely incompetent in rain about ten minutes._

  _Good._

_Miss me that much huh?_

 

She rolls her eyes and tries to come up with a witty response but jumps at the sound of Raven’s voice from the other side of her room.

 

“Hey, less flirting, more packing!”

 

Clarke glares at her and makes a show of setting her phone on the desk in front of the window. Raven rolls her eyes but goes back to where she’d been stacking books in boxes, Monty snickers as he moves around the room, double checking every drawer and cubby hole, occasionally locating a stray paint brush or lipstick. Clarke isn’t sure the dorm room would actually have enough space for all her stuff but she’ll figure it out. She looks around as Wells comes through her bedroom door, carrying a folded up box and a roll of bubble wrap.

 

“Okay, this was the biggest box I could find,” he tells her, unfolding it so she can see the size. Clarke nods, taking it from him and using the tape gun on her bed to close up the bottom.

 

“This should work,” she assures him and he shakes his head, tossing the roll of bubble wrap on her bed.

 

“I can’t believe you waited this long, Clarke,” he complains, looking disapproving and, yeah, she deserves it this time. “You’re supposed to leave in a few hours.” Clarke sighs and doesn’t bother arguing as she puts down a layer of bubble wrap in the bag and alternates between putting down one of her canvases and a layer of bubble wrap. Wells shakes his head and sits down on the bed, cutting the bubble wrap for her to make the task go faster.

 

She has to stop and take a step back for a minute as it all hits her all over again. She leans against the desk behind her and watches her friends helping her pack up everything she owns – mostly – for her to move across the country. _Fuck_ , she had been so convinced she was done crying. Her eyes fill up with tears and she sucks in her lips, trying to hold the tears back.

 

Monty notices first.

 

“ _Awww_ ,” he croons, running across the room to pull her into his arms. “Clarkey, don’t cry! We’re gonna come visit you all the time, right, guys?”

 

“Yeah, you won’t be able to get rid of us during winter break,” Raven agrees dryly and Clarke snorts as the tears fall openly down her cheeks now. Wells comes over and wraps his arms around her from the opposite side of Monty and okay now it’s a fucking _group hug_ and she’s practically sobbing and _God she has the most amazing friends_. Raven rolls her eyes and grudgingly joins the hug just as Clarke is thinking she _can’t_ do this, she _can’t_ leave them and move to the other side of the country.

 

She’d decided pretty quickly after getting home from her impromptu trip the summer before that she _couldn’t_ stay in Boston. She had tried, _really tried_ , with her mom but it wasn’t working. They’d been at odds even before her dad had died and they couldn’t fix it. But she’d lasted the three months before school started. She and Wells had been accepted to the same school while Monty and Raven were going to community college in the city and she hadn’t _needed_ to stay in a dorm but had opted to anyway. Better an actual stranger than the tenseness of living with her mother.

 

For her part, Abby had also tried, _really_ , and Clarke could appreciate that. But some things couldn’t be fixed and she thinks Abby had known that from the minute Clarke had pulled up in her dad’s SUV – sunburnt and wary. When Clarke had told Abby at winter break that she wanted to transfer to UCLA, she had barely flinched. Clarke thought maybe her mom had known since she’d gotten back that she wasn’t going to stay, even if Clarke hadn’t known where she was going just yet.

 

She had texted Octavia almost every day and Bellamy would call at odd hours of the night when he would get off work at his bartending job. He had been hesitant at first, worried the time difference would mean he’d woken her up. She had teased him that he clearly had no idea what college was like. She still hadn’t told him that it was only because she’d started waiting up for his call that he never woke her up. After a few months of talking on the phone every night and texting as often as they could, as well as him ending up cutting in on her and Octavia’s skype calls, they decided to stop trying to deny it and just call it a long distance relationship.

 

Clarke was the happiest she’d been in months but that happiness was bittersweet when she was leaving all of her friends behind.

 

She was surrounded by them when her phone started buzzing on the desk behind them. Clarke jerked around in the embrace, reaching out for the phone when she saw Bellamy’s name.

 

“ _I think I’m here?_ ” He says before she can say anything. “ _But it depends, do you live in a_ fucking _mansion?”_ Clarke gives a watery laugh, wiping at her cheeks.

 

“I do _not_ live in a mansion.”

 

“It’s kind of a mansion,” Raven comments and it must reach Bellamy because he laughs on the other end.

 

“ _Okay, then I’m definitely here. At least, the SUV in the driveway looks familiar._ ” Clarke laughs and nods to herself.

 

“Okay, we’re still finishing up packing,” she explains. “I’ll come get you.”

 

She hangs up and heads downstairs, commanding her friends to continue without her, adding that they’re _on a schedule, dammit_ jokingly and Wells rolls his eyes at her while Raven flips her off. Her mom is sitting at the kitchen island as she passes and she ducks her head in.

 

“Hey, Bellamy’s here,” she tells her, “and we’re almost done packing.”

 

“Okay,” Abby nods, “are you sure you don’t need any help?”

 

“No,” Clarke tells her not unkindly, “I think we’re good. Monty’s basically just circling the room and pretending to be doing something at this point.” Abby chuckles and nods again and Clarke heads for the front door, pulling it open. Bellamy’s standing on the front porch looking nervous. His hair is shorter than the last time they’d had time to skype and the California weather has been good to him, his freckles standing out against his tanned skin.

 

“Hi,” he breathes, grinning when he sees her and she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. He chuckles against her lips and she hears him mumble something like _eager_ but she bites down a little harshly on his lower lip and it turns into a growl.

 

“Dammit, Princess,” he murmurs when they pull apart, both breathing a little heavier, “I missed you.”

 

She grins at the words and invites him inside. He seems wary but she rolls her eyes, tugging him along. He has his duffel bag and a backpack and she takes them from him, leaving them by the door. She stops in the kitchen to introduce him to Abby, which goes much better than she’d expected. It’s only the normal amount of awkward. Once they’ve done the required amount of small talk with her mother, she leads him up to her bedroom, elbowing him in the stomach when he leans forward and makes a salacious comment in her ear.

 

When they reach her room the scene inside makes her falter. Raven has finished with the books and moved over to take Wells’ spot packing up canvases on her bed while he sits on the edge of it comforting a sobbing Monty. Clarke looks at the crying boy on her bed with wide eyes.

 

“What happened? Everything was okay a minute ago!”

 

“No, it wasn’t,” Monty wails, “I just didn’t want you to cry more!” Wells looks at her helplessly and Clarke can tell this came on suddenly to everyone. She sighs and drops down on the other side of Monty, throwing an apologetic look at Bellamy who seems confused but not put out. Clarke feels bad enough that he’d flown across the country by himself just to drive right back to California with her, she doesn’t want him to have to deal with her and her friends getting weepy, as well.

 

“Get over here and help me out, Blake,” Raven commands from where she’s standing, holding out a pair of scissors. “You cut the bubble wrap and I’ll fill the boxes.” Bellamy chuckles and joins her, giving her a quick one armed hug as he takes the scissors from her hand. Clarke focuses her attention on Monty.

 

“Monty, you literally just said you would come visit me,” she tells him gently, “and it’s not like I can never come back to Boston.” He sniffs a little, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “yeah, I know.”

 

“So, do you wanna meet my boyfriend or what?” He perks up at this, just like she knew he would. They’d all been listening to her for months with _so, Bellamy was saying_ and _I was talking to Bellamy the other night about_ and _I have to get home, Bellamy is gonna help me with my history report before work_. So, save for Raven, they were all pretty familiar with the guy for having never met him. Plus, Clarke just liked referring to him as her boyfriend. Sue her.

 

“Yeah, let’s meet this Bellamy of legend,” Monty says, jumping up and folding his arms over his chest like he hadn’t just been sobbing not thirty seconds ago. Clarke chuckles and shakes her head, standing up and turning towards Bellamy.

 

“Bellamy, this is Monty and Wells,” she tells him, indicating each in turn, “Monty, Wells, you’ve heard of Bellamy, right?” She asks, with a wink in the boys’ direction.

 

“You might’ve mentioned him,” Monty says at the same time Wells drawls “vaguely.”

 

Bellamy smirks at her and rounds the bed to shake their hands. Monty looks excited and Wells looks wary. But nothing explodes so this day is going pretty well.

 

Less than an hour later, every last paintbrush and tube of lip gloss and any other miscellaneous item that could have been laying around her room has been found. Bellamy is packing the boxes that her mom isn’t sending with the movers into the back of the truck and her friends are lined up in front of her. And she’s crying again. She gives them each a goodbye in turn, refusing to make it long and drawn out because she _is_ going to see them again and Raven is already talking about her and Monty _definitely_ taking advantage of the warm weather over winter break and honestly she’s been friends with Wells since she was four so she’s _not worried_ _really_.

 

She saves her mom for last, though, because even the thought of leaving her is harder than she’d really expected. Living in a dorm in the city, fifteen minutes away, was one thing. This was much bigger and she can’t just go home if she needs to. She glances over at Bellamy though and thinks – well, maybe she can.

 

Abby pulls her in for a hug and Clarke grips her much harder than she’d meant to but it’s significant and it’s _good_ and maybe she’s ready to move forward in more ways than one. Maybe the distance will be good for them, too. Perspective gives her the insight to know her dad wouldn’t want her and her mom to be so distant emotionally but the physical distance might help.

 

“You can come back whenever,” Abby says quietly, “even just for a visit. You’ll always have a home here.” Clarke smiles at her and nods, a few tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

 

“You can come to LA whenever, too,” she returns and that’s when her mother – stoic and calm Dr. Abby Griffin – starts crying and Clarke holds her tighter for another minute. “I love you, mom.”

 

“I love you, too,” Abby responds, calming down and loosening her grip on Clarke. She pulls away just as Bellamy closes the tailgate and comes up behind Clarke.

 

“You ready to go, Princess?” He asks quietly and she turns, looking over at her friends one last time.

 

“Yeah,” she breathes, “yeah I think I am.”

 

They climb into the car, Clarke taking the first turn behind the wheel since Bellamy had just gotten off a plane. She pulls out and drives down the street, glancing back in the mirror to see Raven and her mom with their arms wrapped around each other, they all wave until she can’t see them anymore. She glances over at Bellamy. He’s moved the seat back as far as he could in an attempt to stretch his legs out and reaches for her free hand.

 

“So,” he says, as she pulls onto the highway, “you think we can beat our previous Massachusetts-to-California record?” Clarke glances over at him and squeezes his hand.

 

“We’ve got a week before you have to be back at work,” she smiles, looking back to the road ahead of her. “Why rush?”

 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Answers to a few logistics questions you might have; "wouldn't Bellamy file a police report?" probably. tbh I just kind of forgot. "This timeline seems off" shhh noooo. "Would a bank wait 24 hours before freezing an account?" just. let. me. live.
> 
> But seriously, folks, thanks for reading this monster! It's certainly the longest one shot I've ever written and I'm weirdly proud even if it sucks. Reviews are love!!


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